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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26027755">Choose your words</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCivilizedJedi/pseuds/TheCivilizedJedi'>TheCivilizedJedi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(NEW) Translation into Russian now available | Есть перевод на Русский, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin idolizes Obi-Wan, Angst, Begging, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Breathplay elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drama, Dubious morale, Emotional Manipulation, Everybody loves Obi-Wan, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Restraints, Forehead Kisses, Hair-pulling, Hugs, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jealous Anakin, Lots of Crying, M/M, Master/Padawan Kink, Minor Character Death, Obi-Wan is confused half of the time, Oblivious Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obsessive Love, POV Alternating, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Protective Anakin, Puppy Love, Rough Sex, Slapping, Slight foot worship (if you squint), Slow Burn, Thirsty Anakin, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Unhealthy Dependency, Unresolved Tension, Voice Kink, emotional issues, nothing is what it seems, touch-starved anakin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:07:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>125,813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26027755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCivilizedJedi/pseuds/TheCivilizedJedi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The things the clingy mess of Anakin Skywalker does to get his Master’s reluctant attention: A Star Wars Story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>721</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">

        <li>
          Translation into Русский available: 
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30467820">Choose your words (rus)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/beerstrategy/pseuds/beerstrategy">beerstrategy</a>
        </li>


    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello there.<br/>You are entering a 125k word Obikin story.<br/>Before you proceed, please read this foreword (I know it is a bit long, but it’s important).</p><p>First off, for those who might be worried, there will be NO UNDERAGE sexual activities whatsoever, but at some point, Anakin will be a teenager and well, there will be a bit of thinking. Nothing graphic, but if you are uncomfortable, you should probably find something else to read.<br/>Also, please read the tags.</p><p>Secondly, this story contains a bit of religious imagery, you know, since the Jedi are virtually an Order of magic space monks, but mostly just because Anakin Skywalker is a drama queen. In any case – be aware.</p><p>And lastly, concerning the Canon Divergence AU:<br/>I’ve decided to change some canon facts for dramatic purposes. For example, a Master/Padawan Bond is severed during the Knighting ceremony through cutting a Padawan braid at 18, so Obi-Wan will be a 19-year-old young Knight in the beginning of this work, and, as a result, the age difference between him and Anakin will only be 10 years.<br/>But worry not, Anakin Skywalker is (very much canonically) a complete mess all around.<br/>I tried to write a more canonical Obi-Wan Kenobi too – all calm and composed, driven by his duty to the Order, caring deeply but unable to show it properly, and, all in all, torn between his Padawan and his Jedi-ing. But since a huge part of this work is Anakin’s POV, you are going to see the way he sees his Master, and it is more of a fanon!Obi-Wan, flawless and all. </p><p>Also, I’d like to give a shout-out to to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>. Her help was absolutely invaluable.<br/>Okay, I guess I’m done rambling, so…</p><p>A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY…</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                    </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“…The eyes that see through mortal flesh, that pierce through the gloom and dirt of the world and look beyond – those eyes shall not be deceived. Those eyes will never see beauty, will never sparkle with joy, will never know love. Because how can one admire what will soon become nothing but void and dust? How can one rejoice in what is meant to inevitably end? How can one love what has an hourglass inside measuring the time which is running out grain by grain, second by second?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No, for those eyes there is nothing precious. Nothing holy. Nothing dear. Because all those eyes are meant to see, is the Dark Side of the Force, and so they are forever destined to watch life drain from the world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Those who saw the Darkness once can never forget its swirling void. Those who saw the Darkness once shall never believe in the Light again. Their golden eyes shall never lie to them. For they are the Sith, and all they see is death…”</em>
</p><p>So reads the ancient tome in Obi-Wan’s lap. A tale every youngling of every Jedi generation knows by heart. A tale meant to keep them on the right path, never let them stray away.</p><p>As a child Obi-Wan used to wonder why someone would <em>willingly</em> look into the abyss. Now he knows <em>exactly</em> why – because the abyss was staring back, with eyes full of hope and adoration, not molten gold.</p><p><em>Take me home,</em> it begged. And he did.</p><p>He has seen the Dark, and now he can never forget it. It is always with him. It follows him wherever he goes. It obeys his every command. It calls him <em>Master</em>.</p><p>And its name is Anakin Skywalker.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Across the Stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anakin has been looking forward to this moment.</p><p>He never had a reason to look forward to anything in his life before. <em>Ever</em>. A slave boy, what could he possibly be excited about?</p><p>And yet, the joyful anticipation is prickling all over his skin. Something is coming. That Light he keeps seeing in his dreams – that Light is drawing closer. Like a shooting star falling from the night sky, it is coming down to the ground, and on some deep level, Anakin knows he is standing right in the middle of the future impact crater. And he doesn’t mind it at all – as long as the Light obliterates the hateful town of Mos Espa along with him...</p><p> </p><p>He can sense the Light already entering the atmosphere. Wouldn’t it be nice if it blew up the entire sandy hell of Tatooine?</p><p>Anakin closes his eyes.</p><p>Six seconds to impact.</p><p>Five.</p><p>Four.</p><p>Three.</p><p>Two.</p><p>
  <em>One.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Hello there!” the Light says.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin drags his eyes open. Slowly. <em>Incredulously</em>.</p><p>The explosion he has been anticipating never comes, but right there, in the doorway of <em>Watto’s Parts</em> store, there stands his Light.</p><p>Only it isn’t a star at all. It is a dark obsidian figure of a man whose face Anakin cannot see because of the blinding halo shining around him. But for a moment there, in the shimmering glow, Anakin catches a glimpse of something resembling wings folded neatly behind the man’s back.</p><p>“Are you an angel?” Anakin whispers, wide-eyed and gaping at the sight.</p><p>“Hardly,” the figure laughs melodiously and steps inside from the sunlit street into the twilight of the store.</p><p>And only then is Anakin able to see the man clearly: simple linen apparel, a flowing brown cloak and a leather utility belt with a lightsaber clipped to it.</p><p><em>A</em> <em>Jedi</em>.</p><p>“I am merely a humble Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the man says in an elegant Coruscanti voice as he folds his arms, hiding them in his loose sleeves, and bows a little as a sign of greeting.</p><p>Anakin staggers back in utter shock.</p><p>Why would this man – <em>this magnificent, powerful Jedi</em> – bow to him, a nine-year-old slave boy from Tatooine? Even as a greeting. That would mean they were equals.</p><p>They are <em>not</em>. They never will be. Even if he weren’t a slave, he could never compare with this highborn man. Not even his modest Jedi clothing can cover up the fact that this man is so <em>very obviously</em> of royal blood. Aside from the noble, porcelain paleness of his skin and the auburn crown of his hair, he also has this presence around him – something that makes Anakin feel humbled and unworthy, something that makes him want to kneel…</p><p>Anakin almost has to force himself to stand upright when his knees buckle in an unconscious desire to do just that. <em>Kneel</em>.</p><p>He hastily doubles over in his respectful bow instead.</p><p>“I’m Anakin Skywalker, Master.”</p><p>“I hope you are not too disappointed that I am not an angel?” The Jedi smiles and gives Anakin a soft look of amusement that makes his skin crawl.</p><p>Anakin flushes so vigorously that his eyes start to water, and he shyly lowers his head under the piercing, stormy blue gaze of Obi-Wan Kenobi.</p><p>“No, Master. It’s even better this way.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>Anakin watches Obi-Wan’s face crinkle in confusion and hurries to elaborate.</p><p>“Angels are majestic but too gentle and fragile. The Jedi are <em>warriors</em>.”</p><p>“You sound like you are in desperate need of a warrior, young Skywalker.” The Jedi inclines his head to the side, observing Anakin with thoughtful carefulness.</p><p>“Yes, Master!” Anakin perks up. “I have been waiting for you for so, so long! And you are finally here!”</p><p>He covers the space separating them in less than a second and winds his arms around the man’s waist, squeezing him in a tight hug and hiding his face in the folds of his robes.</p><p>“Child, what are you–”</p><p>Anakin feels the Jedi tense in his embrace, so he draws back a little to look up at his beautiful young face.</p><p>“Master, please, take me away from here! Take me home with you!”</p><p>Anakin hears the man draw in a sudden breath right before he gently untangles his small fingers from his robes and pushes him away slightly, carefully.</p><p>“I cannot do that, Anakin Skywalker.” He shakes his head in regret, even though Anakin can sense the turmoil of confused feelings rising inside him.</p><p>“But I will serve you so well, Master!” He presses his hands to his chest as he looks up at the man with eyes full of hope, awe and adoration. “I will behave, I swear! Please, <em>please</em>, take me home with you!”</p><p>“Listen, child,” the Jedi says with a long-suffering sigh, “I do not fully understand what is happening here… I am new to this planet, and I have merely come to purchase some parts for my ship. But I can sense your unhappiness, and I am truly sorry that you have to live in this Sith-forsaken place… <em>However</em>,” the Jedi stresses, having noticed how Anakin’s eyes already lit up with hopeful anticipation, “I cannot take you away from here and <em>bring you home with me</em>, for the Jedi have no home. We live in the Temple when we are not on missions, but it can hardly be called <em>home,</em> and it is certainly not a suitable place for a child like yourself.”</p><p>“But…” Anakin staggers back, as if punched in the face. “But you are <em>it</em>. The Light I’ve been waiting for ever since I was three! I saw you in the Force. I <em>knew</em> one day you would come for me!”</p><p>“You–” Master Kenobi looks stunned. “You <em>saw</em> me in <em>the</em> <em>Force?</em>”</p><p>“Yes, Master!” Anakin nods eagerly. “Well… I didn’t exactly see your face or anything. Just your Light. And I prayed to you every day. Begged you to come. And you’ve heard my call!”</p><p>“I am sorry...” Even after Anakin’s explanation, the Jedi Master doesn’t look any less confused. “You keep mentioning this <em>Light</em>… What do you mean exactly?”</p><p>Now it is Anakin’s turn to be at a loss.</p><p>“<em>This</em> Light,” he gestures vaguely around the man. “You know, the sparkling, glowing, shining thing around you? Your <em>halo?</em>”</p><p>There is a very strange look on the Jedi’s face when he pauses for a moment, his eyes raking over Anakin, as if trying to see all the way through him, into his soul, before he speaks:</p><p>“I understand you are not properly trained, but the Force must be very strong with you, Anakin Skywalker.” He extends his arm to Anakin, offering him his palm. “Will you come to the Temple with me so that the High Council could take a look at you?”</p><p>There isn’t even a second of hesitation before Anakin grabs the offered hand as eagerly as though it were his lifeline.</p><p>“Yes, Master Kenobi!”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p><em>Unwanted</em>.</p><p>That’s what he is.</p><p>He knew it right away, even before the Jedi Council started to question him.</p><p>He felt like a <em>bug,</em> <em>pinned</em> and wriggling on a piece of wood, under the merciless scrutiny of their gazes.</p><p><em>Too old</em>, they said.</p><p>
  <em>Too unpredictable.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Too prone to the Dark.</em>
</p><p>They claimed to sense his fear.</p><p>But <em>he</em> could sense <em>theirs</em> too.</p><p><em>Terror</em>. Radiating through their pompous façades of assumed enlightenment.</p><p>Not even their greedy desire to possess “the Chosen One” could beat that fear of having no control over him.</p><p>They saw him as a weapon none of them could wield.</p><p><em>My power is not meant for </em>you<em>, you haughty old prigs,</em> Anakin wanted to tell them but didn’t. Purely out of respect for Master Kenobi, who seems to have great deference for them.</p><p> </p><p>He has been in there for almost two hours already – <em>fighting</em> them all for Anakin’s future. Anakin can hear the faint sound of his calm voice defying the chorus of their angry ones from behind the door. He already knows the decision the Council is going to make despite Master Kenobi’s reasoning, but, regardless, his whole being rejoices, wrapped in a warm, fuzzy feeling: the man who only just met him mere hours ago, already cares about him enough to go against the High Jedi Council.</p><p>Anakin sighs happily and slides down the wall next to the door of the Council Chamber. He wraps his arms around his shins and props his chin on his knees. He waits.</p><p>He is not worried that the Order is going to reject him: it’s not like he’s ever wanted to be a Jedi anyway. He is only here, in the Temple, because that’s where Master Kenobi is. And whatever that Council of theirs decides, Anakin knows for sure he is not going to leave here without his Light.</p><p>Anakin clenches his fists.</p><p>He will eat from the local dumpsters and sleep on the steps of the Temple if he has to. If that’s what it takes to be close to Master Kenobi.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Strong with the Force, the boy is.” Grand Master Yoda nods in confirmation of Obi-Wan’s claim when the door of the Council Chamber has closed behind the last member of the High Council and Obi-Wan has kneeled in the center of the room out of respect.</p><p>“But strange, his visions are.”</p><p>“Perhaps it’s just a child’s imagination running wild and free,” Obi-Wan suggests, somewhat defensive.</p><p>“Yet an unwavering faith in them, he has!” Master Yoda exclaims with unusual irritation in his wobbly voice. “Claim to see your <em>halo,</em> he does. Convinced you are his long-awaited <em>savior</em>, he is.”</p><p>“Well, can you blame him, Grand Master?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “I did save him, after all. I had to <em>buy</em> him, for Force’s sake! Like an object! Like an insentient beast!”</p><p>Obi-Wan can’t help but shudder with disgust and indignation at the memory.</p><p>“Bring him here, you should not have.” Master Yoda shakes his head in regret, indifferent to Obi-Wan’s sentiment. “Meant to be here, the boy is not. Too old for the training, he is.”</p><p>“But, Master Yoda!” Obi-Wan pushes, appalled by the fact that he even <em>has to</em> convince people that leaving a child in slavery wasn’t an option, even though Jedi are not supposed to meddle in matters out of their jurisdiction. “You have just seen for yourself what I saw in him back on Tatooine. Anakin is the strongest of us all!”</p><p>“The Chosen One, the boy may be,” Master Yoda nods in confirmation again. “Nevertheless, grave danger in his training, I fear.”</p><p>“But why, Master?” Obi-Wan is completely at a loss. “Doesn’t the Order need the Chosen One to bring balance to the Force? Wasn’t it foretold ages ago?”</p><p>Master Yoda lets out a long-suffering sigh.</p><p>“Great possessiveness in him, I sense. And to the fear of loss, it leads. A way to the Dark Side, it is. Know that, you should well, young Obi-Wan.”</p><p>“Possessiveness?! This is just <em>ridiculous, </em>Master!” Obi-Wan exclaims with a scandalized expression. “The boy used to be a <em>slave!</em> Slaves do not have property of any kind. What can he possibly feel so possessive about?”</p><p>Master Yoda gives him a strange look and remains silent for a long while, deep in contemplation.</p><p>“Agree with you taking this boy as your Padawan, the Council does not,” he states and thumps his stick on the marble floor in irritation before turning to leave, indicating that the conversation is over.</p><p>Obi-Wan sighs and lowers his head.</p><p>“Master Yoda, I <em>will</em> train Anakin,” he declares with calm determination. “<em>Without</em> the approval of the Council if I must.”</p><p>That makes Master Yoda freeze halfway to the door and turn around to face him again.</p><p>“<em>Defiance</em>, I sense in you, young Obi-Wan.” He narrows his eyes as though in suspicion. “Become a Grey Jedi, you might.”</p><p>It was never Obi-Wan’s intention. He has always been loyal to the Order, but in this instant, he jerks his chin up and looks straight into Master Yoda’s face, maintaining the eye contact in their silent battle of wills.</p><p> </p><p>“Agree with you, the Council does. Your apprentice, Skywalker will be.”</p><p>At last, the ancient Master looks away, yet it doesn’t feel like much of a victory to Obi-Wan because he has caught a glimpse of his expression. <em>Apprehension.</em></p><p>Grand Master doesn’t trust the youngest, most brilliant Master in the Jedi history not to betray the Order for some orphan boy from a backwater planet. And only a few hours ago Obi-Wan would have thought it <em>utterly ridiculous</em>, but he doesn’t now. Not anymore.</p><p>He bows to Master Yoda, silently wondering if he <em>knows. </em>If he can see through him, look beyond his walls and shields, right into his core – to where his serenity coolant has been tainted by a foreign substance and can no longer stop the overheating; to where the <em>meltdown</em> has already begun.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“The Council have granted me permission to train you.”</p><p>As soon as Obi-Wan steps outside the Council Chamber, Anakin wraps around him like a giant octopus.</p><p>“<em>My</em> Master!” he mumbles into the folds of Obi-Wan’s Jedi robes as he squeezes him tighter. “<em>Mine!</em>”</p><p>Obi-Wan goes stiff in the sudden embrace: this is the very possessiveness Master Yoda has just warned him about.</p><p>“Attachment and possessiveness are not the Jedi way, my newly-appointed Padawan,” he warns softly, not even knowing for sure if it is indeed Anakin who needs to be reminded.</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t care!” the boy sighs happily, and the ring of his arms clenches around Obi-Wan’s waist even tighter.</p><p>Obi-Wan shakes his head with an amused grin.</p><p>“And that is exactly the kind of thing every Master wants to hear from a Padawan.”</p><p>“Sorry, Master,” Anakin lets go of him and takes a step back, his head bowed and his cheeks burning in sudden embarrassment. “I swear, I will serve you well.”</p><p>“No, Anakin,” Obi-Wan shakes his head again and lowers himself onto one knee to look properly into his new apprentice’s face. He puts his hands onto the boy’s shoulders to emphasize the gravity of what he is about to say.</p><p>“You will <em>learn</em> from me – not <em>serve</em> me. You are not a slave anymore. My title of Master does not mean I <em>own</em> you. It means I am your <em>teacher</em>. And given your past, I don’t really expect you to address me this way. You can just call me Obi-Wan if you want.”</p><p>“Whatever you say, Master,” Anakin mumbles in response, eyes downcast, and not really looking at the young man.</p><p>He won’t even try to explain to his Master that his title means so much more to him than simply an <em>owner</em> or a <em>teacher</em>.</p><p>For him, a boy raised as a slave, bowing his head and calling someone “Master” <em>willingly, </em>without being beaten or starved into it, basically equals a display of the greatest affection. A love confession in disguise. The ultimate <em>I love you.</em></p><p>It means the man who all of Anakin’s respect and devotion will be for.</p><p>It means the man who Anakin’s life and death will be for.</p><p>It means the man who Anakin will conquer the entire world for.</p><p><em>Soon</em>.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N 1:<br/>Obviously, the title of this chapter is a reference to one of the best love themes in movie history.<br/>So If you’d like an epic version of Across the Stars by John Williams for this chapter, you might want to check this out:<br/><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWtxIQySjQU">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWtxIQySjQU</a></p><p>A/N 2:<br/>Obi-Wan’s dramatic entrance was inspired by this picture:<br/><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/2b/28/f2/2b28f2aa20b5636c1e9e6c216f355561.jpg">https://i.pinimg.com/564x/2b/28/f2/2b28f2aa20b5636c1e9e6c216f355561.jpg</a></p><p>Although he is much, much younger in that scene, so I imagine him looking more like this:<br/><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/59/db/33/59db330c0e74af4730b56535bae68a19.jpg">https://i.pinimg.com/564x/59/db/33/59db330c0e74af4730b56535bae68a19.jpg</a></p><p>A/N 3:<br/>You might be wondering why Obi-Wan introduced himself as Jedi Master, even though he is just 19 years old in this chapter and is supposed to be just a Knight. Well, I did a little bit of research, and guess what? The rank of a Jedi Master (which is normally given if a Jedi has successfully trained a Padawan to become a Knight) can also be given to honor exceptional actions of a Jedi Knight. Soooo… Obi-Wan must have done something to earn it, right? *eyebrow wiggle*</p><p>Anyway, if you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Come to me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>Come to me!</em>
</p><p>He wakes up with that plea on his lips every night.</p><p>He has been calling for his Master for as long as he can remember and he can’t just stop now. It seems to him that his call is the only thing keeping his Master by his side, anchoring him and not letting his perfect Light just drift away.</p><p>Because why else would this magnificent being – the one whose eyes glow in the darkness with celestial radiance, the one who is as bright and unreachable as distant stars of faraway worlds – why would he <em>willingly</em> stay with him, Anakin Skywalker, the boy whose heart is drenched in Darkness, whose eyes are black with greedy desire to soak up his Light? <em>Why</em> <em>else</em> would he stay? The answer is simple: he wouldn’t.</p><p>And it’s okay, Anakin thinks. Just <em>fine</em>. He can still <em>make</em> him stay. All he has to do is simply grip him tighter and never let go. Never let his Master leave him. Never relinquish his hold on his heart. Weave his dark thread into the unblemished canvas of his Master’s very being. Intertwine their lives together until it’s absolutely impossible to tell them apart…</p><p>But he needs to be smart about it. <em>Subtle</em>.</p><p>By day, his Master may be as cold as steel. Distant. Aloof. Unyielding in his indifferent Jedi serenity. But when the night comes and darkness falls over Coruscant, when the moons rise over the Temple and the Light Side goes dormant, Anakin knows his Master will hear his call.</p><p>So Anakin keeps whispering, every night – like a prayer to his personal god – spinning his words into a net all around his Master’s blinding Force Signature.</p><p><em>“Think about me, day and night,” </em>he adjures solemnly. <em>“Don’t put me out of your mind, not for a second.” </em></p><p><em>“Come to me! Stay with me!” </em>he urges.</p><p><em>“I am your destination. I am your mission, your main objective,” </em>he convinces, insistent and assertive.</p><p><em>“Remember me always, always,” </em>he prompts openly<em>. “Let all your thoughts be about me and me alone. Nothing else. No one else. Just me. Only me.”</em></p><p><em>“I am the one you have been looking for, just like you are the one I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember,” </em>he assures, his voice enticing and needy. <em>“Come to me! Stand beside me! Wrap your arms around me and never let go.”</em></p><p><em>“You are the only one who can help me. You are the only one who can save me. You are the only one,” </em>he cajoles and coaxes, shameless in his urgency.</p><p><em>“You’ve heard the voice of the Force,” </em>he implores, and begs, and persuades.</p><p>
  <em>“Come to me! Come closer!”</em>
</p><p>The mantra falls off Anakin’s lips easily, almost unconsciously after years of endless repetition.</p><p>That is cheating, of course. That isn’t fair to his Master. And Anakin knows he shouldn’t be trying to manipulate him like that, but the truth is – he doesn’t care. For the first time in his life, he’s gotten something that is <em>his</em> <em>and his alone</em>. And it’s the most amazing, beautiful person in the entire universe, so he is not about to let him go just because of some stupid qualms.</p><p>He might still be just a child, but as a former slave he has already seen more ugliness of existence than most people get to see in their entire lives. He is not naïve. He is <em>ruthless</em> in his desire to keep the treasure the Force has gifted him with. And he will not hesitate to use whatever means necessary.</p><p><em>“Come to me!”</em> his lips keep chanting every night – and every day his Master comes just a little bit closer. Entranced and pulled in by the simple words.</p><p>
  <em>Come to me!</em>
</p><p>One day he will.</p><p>But until then, Anakin will go <em>to him</em>. Knock on his bedroom’s door in the dark. Pretend he has nightmares about Tatooine. Pretend he misses his mother, who he doesn’t even actually remember: she died when he was still a toddler. But his Master doesn’t know that. He doesn’t <em>need</em> to know.</p><p>Let him think he is just a little boy who needs to be comforted because he is afraid of the monsters under his bed.</p><p>Oh, he <em>is</em> afraid of monsters all right – of those that live <em>inside his head</em>. But his Master doesn’t need to know that either.</p><p>He doesn’t need to know that the black hole in his Padawan’s chest is <em>mesmerized</em> by the Light of his star and it won’t stop until it <em>devours</em> that star – until it has the star <em>all to itself</em>. Safely within. Giving the Light to him and him alone.</p><p>His Master doesn’t know any of that, and that is why he is not even resisting the gravitational pull drawing him in.</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! I will swallow you whole.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan barely reaches the meditation chamber when he falls to the ground, his knees giving way under the enormous amount of stress he’s been under these past few days.</p><p>The Chosen One is <em>his</em> to train. The Chosen One is overwhelmingly strong with the Force.</p><p>The Chosen One is just a scared little boy crying himself to sleep every night on his shoulder because of his…visions? Dreams? Nightmares?</p><p>He doesn’t really want to talk about them. All Obi-Wan knows is that he keeps chanting in his sleep:</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Offer me your hand to hold!</em>
</p><p>Every night. Over and over again.</p><p>Who does he beg? Who does he whisper to in the dead of night? Is it that Darkness that keeps furling and unfurling, pulsing inside the boy’s Force Signature?</p><p>Obi-Wan doesn’t know. Obi-Wan is not even sure he <em>wants</em> to know. Because now, like blood soaking through white cloth, a vague recollection of this voice is starting to appear throughout his memory.</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Hold me tight against your chest!</em>
</p><p>How many nights did he wake with a start, covered in cold sweat and reaching out to something but having no idea what his dream had been about?</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Let me breathe you in!</em>
</p><p>How many times, during his deep meditation, did he see himself roam through the most beautiful lush gardens and meadows, among colorful flowers and emerald leaves, only to awaken with a mouth full of sand?</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Allow me to slide my arms around your neck!</em>
</p><p>How many missions did he reject only to choose the one that left him with a broken ship in the middle of nowhere and made him land on Tatooine?</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Let me press my forehead to yours!</em>
</p><p>How can he not remember this call in his head that evidently has been there <em>for years?</em></p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Tell me you are mine!</em>
</p><p>How is it possible that the boy’s whisper is still in his ears, day and night?</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Promise me you will never ever leave!</em>
</p><p>And if he is indeed the one Anakin is unconsciously calling for, why does he keep doing it now that they are in the Temple together? Why is this voice calling him to come closer <em>still?</em></p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me!</em>
</p><p>Is it even real, or is it just Obi-Wan’s own imagination blowing the boy’s words back on Tatooine out of proportion?</p><p>
  <em>“I prayed to you every day. Begged you to come. And you’ve heard my call!”</em>
</p><p>Did you really, Obi-Wan Kenobi?</p><p>Does it even matter?</p><p>He begged you to come to him. And you did.</p><p>
  <em>How do you want me to call you? </em>
</p><p>You followed whispers in the dark.</p><p>
  <em>I will give you a name.</em>
</p><p>You got lured by a promise.</p><p>
  <em>I called you by the name you chose for yourself – and you answered my call. You came running.</em>
</p><p>You got summoned like a demon.</p><p>
  <em>You called yourself my savior – so save me! You volunteered, after all, didn’t you?</em>
</p><p>Didn’t you, Obi-Wan?</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me! Let me have all of you!</em>
</p><p>The famed Negotiator – enchanted, <em>defeated</em> – by the power of simple words. How awfully poetic.</p><p>So go. Stand beside him. You are trapped anyway. There is no escaping his gravity now. He is a black hole.</p><p>And you knew it from the start.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Attachment is forbidden for a good reason.</p><p>Attachment leads to possessiveness, to jealousy, to fear of loss.</p><p>Attachment clouds one’s judgment.</p><p><em>Never</em> has Obi-Wan seen attachment form so quickly. And so <em>literally</em>.</p><p>Back on Tatooine, that very first time he saw the boy’s Force Signature – looming and potent like a gathering storm – he stood in awe. He missed the moment when it pounced on him, its tendrils wrapping all around him like vines as it whispered to him:</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Let me in! Take me with you!</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>The boy’s Dark halo mixed with his own, slipped through his <em>useless</em> shields and installed itself right into his chest without as much as triggering any alarms.</p><p>It didn’t feel alien inside him. It didn’t feel dangerous. It felt <em>natural</em> – as though it had been there, a part of him, all along. Obi-Wan’s soul did not reject the boy’s presence, letting it infiltrate every part of his being. And the Darkness curled up inside his chest, warm, and fluffy, and purring like a happy Loth-cat.</p><p><strong><em>I love you</em></strong>, it cooed.</p><p>And Obi-Wan let it stay.</p><p> </p><p>Attachment is not the Jedi way.</p><p>Attachment is forbidden by the Order.</p><p>Attachment is what Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi secretly brought home from Tatooine – Anakin Skywalker’s Force Signature still clinging to his own and absolutely impossible to get rid of.</p><p>Only this isn’t attachment at all – this is <em>nuclear</em> <em>fusion</em>. A reaction intense enough to power a star. And he will just pass it off as a Master-Padawan bond.</p><p><em>Easily</em>.</p><p>No one will ever know.</p><p>His star does need the fuel after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. You will tame his fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The last few weeks have been a little too much fuss for Obi-Wan’s taste.</p><p>First, in a span of two days, he crashed on the unholy planet of Tatooine, met the strangest Force-sensitive child, found himself in the middle of said child’s visions of the future and brought him to the Temple.</p><p>Then, for no apparent reason, he chose to fight the High Council on the subject of his destiny as the Chosen One and a Jedi every step of the way. That last bit… Obi-Wan isn’t even sure <em>why</em> he did it.</p><p>He could have just broken the sudden connection that had formed in the Force between the boy and himself. He could have just left the boy on Tatooine. He could have just let the Council throw him out of the Temple. But instead, he <em>brought him home</em>. Just like he had begged him to.</p><p>Stupid. <em>Stupid</em>.  But what’s done is done, and now, one step away from being called a <em>Renegade </em>of all things, he has suddenly ended up in the middle of a human disaster who is now proudly calling himself his Padawan.</p><p>New clothes for the boy.</p><p>New joined quarters for them both.</p><p>New schedule of studying, and training, and meditation.</p><p>
  <em>Mastermastermaster.</em>
</p><p>Not a single moment of peace. <em>Not one.</em> Ever since he met Anakin Skywalker.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>In the relative quiet of his room, Obi-Wan – <em>finally!</em> – takes a deep breath, letting his mind wander beyond the confines of his body and step into the turbulent current of the Force.</p><p>His mind’s landscape in the Force is, as always, a perfect picture of serenity and fortitude: a peaceful bay washed by the softly murmuring ocean. It resembles the winged blade on the crest of the Jedi Order: two stripes of black sand curving into a crescent with a protruding natural spire towering right in the middle of it.</p><p>There, on the narrow ledge projecting from the obsidian peak, midway between the sea and the sky, now is shining the star of Obi-Wan’s Signature in the Force.</p><p>Obi-Wan is standing on the edge of the cliff, feeling small and insignificant compared to the grandeur of his surroundings as he looks down.</p><p>The ocean, whose waters are caressing the sheer wall of the rock with gentle strokes, is turquoise in its tranquility and in a stark contrast with the blackness of the sand.</p><p>The land beyond the beach is shrouded in thick pearly-white mist. Its veil is swirling along the edge of the beach, as if hesitant to move forward and swallow the land completely.</p><p>Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp, salty air, before he speaks:</p><p>“Force, are you here? Are you with me?”</p><p>There is no answer.</p><p>Obi-Wan moves to kneel on the hard surface of the rock and looks heavenward as he starts to confess quietly but fervently:</p><p>“In the guiding Light of my prayers and meditations, in the cool serenity among the walls of your holy Temple, my soul was…<em>suffocating</em>. It wanted <em>more</em>. It was waiting for this…this <em>fire</em>. And I have found it. I can see it sparkle in the eyes of my enemy – that child of the Dark Side… And once I saw it in those greedy, tenacious eyes for the first time, I– I couldn’t look away. I stood face to face with that flaming Darkness…and I reached out to it, meaning to <em>extinguish</em>, but… But the flame reached for my hand too and…it didn’t even <em>singe</em> me.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s voice breaks halfway, turning into an awed whisper, and his brows draw together in distress, his initial disbelief returning, as he recalls what happened that day on Tatooine. He is still too amazed and visibly struggling to fully comprehend it.</p><p>“I put my hand into the fire and the flame <em>snuggled up</em> to it like a fawning dog,” he continues with the same astonishment he felt back then. “It coaxed me to come closer with a promise of warmth, and in my moment of weakness…I did. I let it wrap itself all around me. And now <em>my whole being</em> is on fire…”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s figure slumps to the ground in a twinge of remorse, his palms and forehead pressing against the harsh rock.</p><p>“Force, forgive me! I’ve been selfish. I’ve brought the Dark flame into the Temple, into your holy house. All because I wanted to have that feeling of warmth – of being truly<em> alive</em> – that I had never had before. And now <em>everything</em> will burn – ignite and go up in flames – unless…”</p><p>Obi-Wan rises slowly to his feet, his fists tightened in firm determination and his face solemn.</p><p>“Unless I <em>tame</em> the fire. I beg of you, Force, don’t interfere! Don’t stop me. Let me fight this blaze. Let me take its hot palms and hold them in mine. Let me look right into its flaming eyes. Don’t part our hands. Let it burn me. Let it engulf me one last time before it <em>fades away</em>, stifled by a Jedi’s fireproof heart.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter shut as he whispers in complete reverence, facing the sky:</p><p>“<em>Please</em>, Force! I’ve always been your most faithful, dutiful servant. I devoted my life to you, never once asking for anything in return. But I’m asking you now – I’m <em>begging</em> you – allow me this. I believe I can make your Dark enemy bow before your glory. I have so much <em>faith!</em>”</p><p>Two wet lines trace down Obi-Wan’s cheeks as he adjures on without any hope for an answer.</p><p>“Please, please<em> allow </em>me<em>…</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I cannot allow this.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s heart jumps into his throat at the unexpected reply when a beautiful, radiant woman with an endless flow of emerald hair appears next to him and puts her gentle hand on his right shoulder.</p><p>“Nor can I forbid it,” she hurries to clarify, taking mercy on the poor, tormented soul of Obi-Wan Kenobi.</p><p>“You are free to do as you wish, my faithful Jedi.” She smiles affectionately at Obi-Wan, who looks at her in awe for a long moment before he remembers to bow.</p><p>“You are…” Obi-Wan’s jaw is still slack with shock and fascination. “It is <em>you</em> our legends and frescos speak about. The paragon of the Light Side. The embodiment of the Force itself…<em> The Daughter.</em>”</p><p>His speech ends in whisper. He is stunned, struggling to believe his eyes: one of the most well-known Jedi legends is standing right in front of him. No living Jedi, not even Grand Master Yoda himself, has seen the Force in a human form before. And yet it has apparently chosen <em>him</em> of all people to appear to. <em>The Daughter of Light!</em></p><p>“Yes, I am indeed,” the woman nods, smiling kindly. “And you are not my servant – you are my <em>child</em>. And all my children have free will. My Light is only here to <em>guide</em> you down the path <em>you</em> choose.”</p><p>“But that’s…” Obi-Wan’s forehead creases in confusion. “That’s not what the Code–”</p><p>“Not what the Code says?” the Daughter finishes for him with an amused smile. “Well, I suppose not. But then again, <em>words</em> are a <em>weapon</em> powerful enough to bend the world the way its wielder wants. You of all people should know that, <em>Negotiator</em>.”</p><p>She gives Obi-Wan a pointed look.</p><p>“Indeed.” Obi-Wan tilts his head in thoughtful agreement.</p><p>“And isn’t that ironic,” despite all her magnificence, the Daughter looks as though she can hardly keep herself from giggling, “that you – the one who wields the power of words – got tricked and trapped by them <em>so easily</em>?”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s features flare with shame.</p><p>“I <em>knew</em> it was not a coincidence that my perfectly new ship broke down in the middle of nowhere and made me stop on Tatooine of all places! I knew it was the Force that sent that boy my way. I heard its voice speaking to me. I knew it was a <em>sign!</em>”</p><p>“It was not my doing, my dear Obi-Wan.” The Daughter shakes her head with an indulgent smile. “It was the boy’s own prayers that brought you to him. It was out of my control.”</p><p>“So…not a sign then?” Obi-Wan says slowly, puzzled and disconcerted, going deep into his thoughts. “You didn’t mean to show me how close the Chosen One was to the Dark Side? To show me that I was the one to stand in his way?”</p><p>“Is that how you see yourself?” the Daughter perks up, her eyes sparkling with amusement, before she adds thoughtfully, her gaze turning empty as she stares into the distance. “<em>Interesting</em>…”</p><p>“What is?”  Obi-Wan’s expression is still perplexed.</p><p>“That is, perhaps, how the boy was able to reach you. To <em>call</em> for you,” the Daughter contemplates, her eyes glassy, as if looking into the void. “<em>His savior.</em> Isn’t that what he called you?”</p><p>“Yes, well… <em>Yes</em>, but…” Obi-Wan uncharacteristically stumbles over his words, his thoughts in utter disarray. “<em>How?</em> How did he do that? How did he <em>know</em>?”</p><p>“Isn’t that what you want to be for him?” The Daughter raises her eyebrow, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.</p><p>“Yes, but…” Obi-Wan feels lost and helpless like a child. “<em>I</em> didn’t even know it myself until I first laid my eyes on him!”</p><p>The Daughter nods, acknowledging his concerned confusion.</p><p>“And he can see your halo when no one else can?”</p><p>“My h–” Obi-Wan hangs his head with a tired, resigned sigh. “The boy was not joking, was he?”</p><p>The Daughter lets out a delighted laugh.</p><p>“Oh, my dear sweet Obi-Wan...” She shakes her head with a fond smile. “Your will is so strong that your own eyes refuse to see what your mind is forbidden to believe in. But look!”</p><p>The Daughter gestures vaguely around him, and Obi-Wan has to hastily cover his eyes with his forearm when his vision whites out, completely drowned in the radiant Light emanating from within him.</p><p>“What–” Obi-Wan whispers with only his lips as his voice has left him in his shaken state. “What <em>is</em> this?”</p><p>The Daughter’s hand strokes his back soothingly.</p><p>“It is how your Light shines in the Force, my dear,” she explains softly, as if to a little child.</p><p>“Now you see why it’s not at all surprising that the boy managed to find you even in the Darkness that surrounds him? You are very hard to miss, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”</p><p>She chuckles softly, observing Obi-Wan’s bewildered expression.</p><p>“What am I to do with him now?” he finally speaks, turning to look at the Daughter, his eyes hopeful. “Tell me.”</p><p>“Just as your Jedi Council has declared, there is indeed much potential for the Darkness in Anakin. And my brother, the Dark Son, will come for what is his. Sooner or later. And when that happens, I need you to be there to stop the boy from falling to the Dark Side. You are the only one who can now. Don’t let my brother take his creation from us. Stop the boy at all costs.”</p><p>“At all costs?” Obi-Wan exclaims in disbelief, his eyebrows rising dramatically. “I will not fight Anakin. He is just a child!”</p><p>A shadow of anger flashes briefly on the Daughter’s face, distorting her beautiful features, but it is gone as quickly as it appeared, making Obi-Wan doubt that he saw it in the first place.</p><p>The woman laughs and winks at Obi-Wan in a conspiratorial way.</p><p>“Who says you have to fight him? You are called the Negotiator for a reason. You wield the greatest power of all, my favorite child. Your <em>words alone </em>can rule the Galaxy. One word out of your mouth, and the boy – that strong and powerful son of the Dark Side – will fall to his knees before you. <em>Gladly</em>. <em>Willingly</em>. All you have to do is find that<em> right word</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Appalled, Obi-Wan turns to look at the fine line where the ocean meets the sky. For a second, it seems to him as though he has just seen a scratch of lightning on the horizon. But when he tries to look closer, the distant line is as calm and peaceful as always.</p><p>“The storm you are looking for is not there yet,” the Daughter reassures him with a kind smile. “You still have time to bind the boy’s will, enchant and enthrall him with your talent until he is nothing but a pliant instrument in your hands. <em>Begging</em> to be used.”</p><p>A shiver runs down Obi-Wan’s body at the cruel calculation hidden behind the Daughter’s reassuring words spoken in that gentle voice.</p><p>He isn’t as blind in his devotion to the Light Side as to not see how he himself is being unscrupulously manipulated in<em> the very same way </em>his poor young Padawan is destined to be – with kindness.</p><p>
  <em>So much for the free will.</em>
</p><p>“Is this the only way to tame the fire I brought with me from Tatooine?” Obi-Wan asks, already knowing the answer but still clutching at the last bit of hope.</p><p>The Daughter’s gaze goes sharp.</p><p>“Don’t pretend to be a saint, my little Jedi. Your masterful manipulation has bent so many wills before. You have brought <em>planets</em> to their knees before the Jedi Order at the Council’s command. You had no qualms then, and there is no need to feel bad about it now. You will just be serving the Light Side as you always have. You <em>must</em> keep the boy on our side at all costs.”</p><p>There is no point in trying to argue with the Daughter. It doesn’t seem like he had a choice in the first place. Obi-Wan sighs in resignation.</p><p>“So be it. You are the Force, and I will do as you command. I have never been this close to the Dark Side before, but rest assured, I will not tremble or cower away when looking into the eyes of your enemy. And in the end, he <em>will</em> bow to your Light in me.”</p><p>The Daughter is smiling, her eyes gleeful with obvious satisfaction.</p><p>“I will be with you, my sweet child. Always.” She kisses Obi-Wan on the cheek.</p><p>And pushes him off the cliff.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan wakes with a start and sits bolt upright. His lips are still whispering, whispering absentmindedly:</p><p>“All shall be as the Force wills… All shall be as the Force wills… Not by my will, but by the will of the Force… Not by my will, but by the will of the Force… I am one with the Force. The Force is with me. Wherever I go, the Force goes with me…” </p><p>“M-master?” The boy’s voice is trembling.</p><p>Startled, Obi-Wan turns to the door.</p><p>“Anakin? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you asleep?” </p><p>“Are you all right, Master? I’ve sensed a great disturbance in the Force…”</p><p>“Stars help me! Are you a younger version of Master Yoda now?” Obi-Wan mutters under his breath and hides his face in his palms. <em>Not a moment of peace.</em></p><p>“Master?” the boy’s voice sounds closer now. <em>When did he manage to come so near?</em></p><p>“I’m fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan assures him with an irritated sigh, lifting his head to look at the boy in the twilight of the room. “Go back to sleep, okay?”</p><p>“But…” the boy insists, “but I know you are lying! You are <em>not</em> fine, Master!”</p><p>Obi-Wan pinches the bridge of his nose with another sigh, “And how, <em>pray tell</em>, do you know that, my very annoying Padawan?”</p><p>Anakin grunts something unintelligible and waves his hand, using the Force to flip the light switch on.</p><p>Obi-Wan screws his eyes shut for a moment, shielding them from the sudden onslaught of the light, but when he finally opens them, he wishes he hadn’t.</p><p>The room is completely destroyed. It looks as though a bomb has gone off right in the middle of it. The only surviving piece of furniture is the bed with Obi-Wan sitting among the crumpled sheets in utter shock.</p><p>“I’m scared, Master. May I sleep here tonight?” Anakin deadpans, not even bothering to put on an appropriate “frightened” expression – his Master is too distracted to notice anyway. And without even waiting for the usual long-suffering sigh and a dismissive wave of hand, he climbs under the blanket and flips the light switch off again.</p><p>Still deeply disturbed, sitting in the darkness of his room, Obi-Wan feels the blanket crawling away from him – <em>slowly, slowly</em> – until it is wrapped tightly all around Anakin Skywalker, leaving him exposed and shaking.</p><p>Obi-Wan swears under his breath.</p><p>
  <em>Every kriffing time!</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hold me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Happy birthday, Anakin!” Obi-Wan says, smiling with endless fondness in his eyes, as he steps aside to reveal a slightly battered blue and white astromech droid. “This is R2D2. He needs a little work done, of course, but I’m sure that with your talent it won’t–”</p><p>He doesn’t have the chance to finish: in less than a second, he has his arms full of his apparently very grateful Padawan.</p><p>“Thank you, thank you, Master!” he whispers almost reverently into the folds of Obi-Wan’s robes as he buries his face into them.</p><p>Obi-Wan freezes in his Padawan’s embrace, just like he did the very first time it happened, caught completely off-guard by the sudden display of appreciation. It is just an old R2 droid, after all. No reason to get all <em>that</em> excited.</p><p>“You got me the best model, Master! You are amazing!”</p><p>Obi-Wan feels Anakin’s hands retract from around his waist only to curl around his neck as the boy rises onto his tiptoes and presses his face into the hollow of his neck with a satisfied sigh.</p><p>Obi-Wan knows that unlike him – all composed and withdrawn – his Padawan is a very tactile person, always touch-starved, always in need of a hug. And he almost casts his arms carefully around the boy, reciprocating the embrace like he has done countless times before, but this time something feels…<em>off</em>. Even this simple touch seems like too much. Even this comforting embrace, even the usual chaste kiss on the forehead – it all suddenly feels inappropriate.</p><p>Something has imperceptibly changed in Anakin’s presence in the Force.</p><p>“You are eleven now, Ani,” he reminds him in a soft voice, gently pulling away from his Padawan’s arms. “Aren’t you a little too old for this?”</p><p>Anakin draws back instantly, his expression shocked and betrayed, as though Obi-Wan has slapped him across the face.</p><p>“What, is this not <em>the Jedi way</em>?” he asks with derision, hastily trying to cover up how hurt he is, but his voice is already shaking. His eyes are glistening with tears.</p><p>Obi-Wan recognizes his mistake immediately: he has been allowing these childish displays of affection and comforting embraces for far too long to just end them so abruptly and rudely now. He should have been <em>subtler</em> about it, for Force’s sake! But now he is too distraught with that unexpected uneasiness he is feeling to do something to mend the situation.</p><p>“Anakin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–” he starts, having no actual idea what to say, but the boy doesn’t let him finish anyway. He whirls around and dashes to the door leading out of their quarters.</p><p>“Ani, wait!” Obi-Wan calls after him, reaching out in an instinctive attempt to stop his stubborn Padawan.</p><p>The already opening door slides shut abruptly right before the boy’s nose, yielding to Obi-Wan’s Force impulse.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin slams his fists against the durasteel.</p><p>Once.</p><p>
  <em>Twice.</em>
</p><p>To no avail.</p><p>His chest is heaving with a sob. He presses his palms and forehead against the cold metal, desperately trying to calm down. But it is already too late, and he knows it. His all-out breakdown is imminent now: the countdown has already begun somewhere in his chest. He can feel his body tremble, his cheeks flare, his eyes fill with tears.</p><p>The pain of betrayal feels very real. He thought his Master <em>knew</em>. He thought he <em>understood</em> how much Anakin <em>needs</em> the comfort of his embraces, how it is <em>the only thing</em> able to rein in the emotions that are constantly trying to break the surface and spill out of him like a devastating torrent.</p><p>Anakin’s throat tightens with the oncoming tears and he can’t breathe anymore. He shudders as the silent sob, which his body has worked so hard to contain within, racks his shoulders.</p><p>He is almost hysterical already, and he is only going to spiral down from here, that much he knows. It won’t take him long to fall apart completely.</p><p>He wants to <em>scream</em>. He wants to throw things. He wants to wail and weep until he passes out.</p><p>The storm is rising inside him. His dark aura splashes around him, swirling and roaring. It will never calm down. <em>Ever</em>. Not on its own. Not unless he goes and tucks his face into his Master’s chest again. Not unless he is pulled into the safety of his embrace, and held, and comforted, and feels loved and cherished again…</p><p>If his Master denies him that, if he pushes him away again, he will <em>most definitely</em> die. He won’t survive. He’s gonna die. He can’t breathe. He can’t– Everything is getting dark. He’s gonna die! He’s gonna–</p><p> </p><p>“Shh…” His Master’s breath fans over the nape of his neck as he crouches over him slightly to carefully wrap his arms around his shaking shoulders.</p><p>And Anakin doesn’t just let his body slack into his embrace – he <em>collapses</em> into it with a pathetic whimper, sobbing and barely conscious.</p><p>“Where were you going, Ani?” his Master murmurs somewhere against his temple, pulling him gently away from the door. “Did you want to run away from me?”</p><p>“No! No!” Anakin chokes on his sobs, shaking his head vehemently. “I just– I–”</p><p>His body gives violent shudders every time he tries to take a breath. His vision is swimming with tears. He feels delirious, completely overwhelmed with his raging emotions.</p><p>“It was wrong of me to push you away, my dear Padawan,” his Master admits, regret obvious in his soothing voice. “When you are upset you should be running <em>to me</em>, not away.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Master! I– I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Anakin says tearfully. “I just can’t– I can’t stop. I–”</p><p>“You are very <em>special</em>, Anakin. I understand that you feel the Force differently from all the other Jedi – more <em>intensely</em>. And of course, you need help dealing with all these acute emotions,” his Master reassures him, his gentle cadence soothing and lulling. “So whenever you feel like you need my emotional support, I will give it to you. No matter how old you are. Okay?”</p><p>“Promise?” Anakin chokes out, taking a heaving breath in an effort to still his uncontrollable sobbing.</p><p>“Promise.” His Master gives him a little squeeze to punctuate his words. “Just tell me what you need, Ani.”</p><p>Instantly, Anakin turns around in his Master’s embrace and wraps his arms tightly around his waist, his hands gripping desperately into his clothes.</p><p>“Hold me some more, Master! Please, <em>please!</em> I <em>need</em>…”</p><p>His Master holds him tighter. His bright, warm halo wraps around Anakin’s stormy one. Swaddles it. Cradles it. And suddenly Anakin doesn’t feel like he is dying anymore.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Even though the canon books spell Anakin’s nickname as “Annie”, I still prefer the fanon “Ani”.<br/>I’m guessing Obi-Wan would pronounce it as “Ahni”, just the way he pronounces “Ahnakin”.</p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tell me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He is twelve already and he is just allowed to go to the Crystal Caves of Ilum <em>now</em>.</p><p>His lightsaber has been lying in his drawer – fully constructed but empty and <em>powerless</em> – for almost a year now. Waiting for her kyber crystal.</p><p>All the other Padawans of his age had their Gathering ten months ago. But not him. <em>Of course not.</em></p><p>It didn’t matter that he had been training a hundred times harder than any of them, that he had shown more skill with his training lightsaber than all of them combined. It just didn’t matter. To the Council he was still an abominable bastard child they never wanted. Too old for the training. Too emotional to concentrate on meditation. Too powerful to control.</p><p>No wonder they didn’t let him have his own lightsaber when all the other Padawans did.</p><p>But he is twelve now, and they can’t deny him any longer.</p><p>So here he is, in the Jedi Temple of Ilum, determined to overcome any obstacles to find his crystal and <em>finally</em> power his lightsaber.</p><p>Unlike the other Padawans, he is confident that he will succeed. He <em>must</em>. There is no other way. He <em>needs</em> a lightsaber to be able to conquer the world for his Master, and he <em>will</em> have it – even if he has to bring this whole Temple down to get his crystal.</p><p>He isn’t too worried about Master Yoda’s warning either: it doesn’t matter if the waterfall covers the entrance to the cave. The little green goblin must not be as wise as they say if he really thinks that some wall of ice can stop him from coming back to his Master.</p><p>Anakin grins to himself and ventures forward, into the frozen labyrinth. He fears <em>nothing</em>!</p><p>Or so he thought.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, it’s gonna be so easy!</em> he thinks at first. The crystals are all around him, gleaming with soft green and blue. All he needs to do is reach out and take…</p><p>But when his hand closes around one of the crystals, it doesn’t even melt like ice and snow into water the way they say kyber crystals might in unworthy hands – no, it <em>bleeds</em>.</p><p>It melts into <em>blood</em> – scarlet and hot – in his palm, until there is nothing left of it.</p><p>Anakin stares at his blood-stained palm for a moment.</p><p><em>Whoa, ominous much?</em> he thinks in irritation.</p><p>Does this stupid cave think he will faint just at the sight of blood? Or that he will take literal blood on his hands as a bad sign and turn back?</p><p>Anakin wipes the blood on his Jedi robes without much care as he mumbles, “Stupid crystals.”</p><p>He reaches for another one.</p><p>Then another. And another.</p><p>The beige of his robes starts to get dark red pretty soon. But it doesn’t seem to bother Anakin in the slightest. He keeps grabbing and breaking the crystals, crushing them in his bare hands, one by one, while they sing quietly, vibrating all around him in lamentation.</p><p>Anakin doesn’t care that the kyber crystals reject him, showing him with such cruelty that they are not meant for him, the child of the Dark Side. He is pretty used to it by now. <em>Nothing</em> in the Jedi Temple, in the Jedi Order, in the Jedi world is meant for him. Nothing but his Master.</p><p>So Anakin will just destroy the stupid crystals until one of them yields and stays in his palm – a jewel shining cerulean like his Master’s mesmerizing eyes – raw infinite power in such a tiny little thing.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Anakin!” a worried voice calls out. “Anakin, where are you? Anakin!”</p><p>“I’m here, Master!” Anakin shouts back into the tunnel behind him, and in a few moments, his Master’s tall figure emerges from it in urgent haste.</p><p>“Oh, thank the Force!” His Master sighs with relief, squeezing him in his embrace a little too tightly, before he lets him go only to inspect him more thoroughly. His eyes are raking over Anakin’s body, as if searching for hidden injuries.</p><p>His Master’s hands reach to cup Anakin’s cheeks when he notices Anakin’s bloodied tabards and looks at him intently. “Are you all right, my Padawan? Are you hurt?”</p><p>Anakin’s brows creep up, his eyes round with confusion.</p><p>“Of course, I’m all right, Master,” he reassures, hiding his blood-stained hands behind his back. “Why wouldn’t I be?”</p><p>“Why woul–” His Master chokes on his words, stepping back and throwing his hands in the air, his expression deeply distressed.</p><p>“Anakin… You’ve been missing <em>for a week!</em> I’ve been searching for you day and night. I thought–” His voice breaks. “I thought you were dead…”</p><p>The Jedi covers his face with his hands, his shoulders slumped as if under some enormous weight. He lets out a shaky exhale.</p><p>Anakin stands silently for a moment, frozen, too shocked to even breathe.</p><p>“Master, I–” he finally speaks, reaching out to wrap his arms around his Master’s hunched, mournful figure. “I don’t understand… I– I barely just left for the crystal. I haven’t even looked properly yet…”</p><p>His Master suddenly straightens his shoulders, pushing Anakin’s arms away. “You don’t even have the crystal yet?”</p><p>“No, they just <em>don’t want</em> me, but–” Anakin tries, but his Master is already shaking his head with a long-suffering sigh.</p><p>“I am <em>very disappointed</em> in you, Anakin. The Council warned me I would <em>regret</em> taking you as my Padawan. And here you are – lost in the Caves, unable to get even the smallest kyber crystal, completely <em>useless</em>. They were right after all. You are a <em>failure</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Anakin stumbles backward as if from a punch in the gut. Unbidden tears gush from his eyes.</p><p>“Master, I–” He chokes on a heart-wrenching sob.</p><p>“You are nothing but an insolent, arrogant, spoiled little brat,” the man before him lists with disgust and a wicked sneer that doesn’t suit his beautiful features.</p><p>Anakin feels like he has just lost that thing that allowed him to stand upright like a human being, so when he tumbles down onto the icy ground, he is nothing more than a mindless mess of pain and grief.</p><p>“You are a burden. I don’t want you as my Padawan anymore,” he hears through the bloody haze swallowing his consciousness. The words burn through his flesh like blaster bolts. Harsh. <em>Merciless</em>. Piercing through his body and soul. He wants to die just to make them stop.</p><p>He curls up in a shaking ball of anguish at his Master’s feet.</p><p>“I will leave you.” A promise. A death sentence.</p><p>And Anakin gathers his last bits of strength to flip onto his stomach and grovel after his Master’s retreating figure, reaching out for him and beseeching him to stay.</p><p>“No, no, no, no… Please, <em>no</em>! Please don’t leave me. Please! Master, I’m <em>begging</em> you! Master, please, <em>please</em>…”</p><p>His Master’s cadence – usually soft and elegant – is suddenly sinister and severe when he finally spits out, “I don’t love you.”</p><p>And Anakin <em>screams</em>. Screams in agonizing pain. Screams as it tears him apart from the inside, ripping through his flesh and skin, breaking his bones and joints, spilling out in rivers of blood.</p><p>Dark waters rush into his ears, and nose, and mouth. Choking him. Swallowing him. Closing over his head.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Get up, Anakin!” a gentle voice urges in the darkness. “Overcome your fear and stand up.”</p><p>But Anakin keeps shaking his head violently, his eyes pressed shut and his bleeding fingers clutching at the sharp ice under his hands.</p><p>“You will get up and come back to me, Ani,” the voice speaks again in his Master’s usual calm and confident Force suggestion tone.</p><p>“I will get up and come back to you, Master,” Anakin’s lips repeat obediently, and he pushes his shaking body up.</p><p>He opens his heavy eyelids and looks at the figure standing in front of him.</p><p>His Master’s silhouette saunters towards him, approaching him from the dark, the long trail of his black cloak sweeping out behind him. But the way he does it is all wrong, his usual deadly grace gone and replaced with sharp, sudden movements, as though he is a puppet on strings, obeying the commands of someone’s clumsy hands.</p><p>The gentle features are familiar and almost a perfect likeness, but the beautiful vessel is empty. There is no Light inside. The man’s eyes are cold and dark – so impossibly dark – as if they were just black, hollow eye sockets.</p><p>“You are not my Master!” Anakin gasps with his sudden terrible realization. His palms dampen. Slowly, slowly he begins to back away from the unknown <em>thing</em> before him, but it keeps pressing towards him, its teeth sharp and almost glowing in the dark as it smiles.</p><p>“My Master is a shining star! I could see his Light from across the entire Galaxy. He is not here. He will be waiting for me at the entrance to the Temple!” squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin mumbles, trying to convince himself.</p><p>The imposter raises an eyebrow, mockingly doubtful, as he steps back, into the shadows. “Will he though?”</p><p>“He will!” Anakin asserts forcefully, raising his chin and clenching his fists in defiance. “I’m a good Padawan. And he will not be disappointed because I’m going to get the crystal no matter what it takes. I would do <em>anything</em> for him, for his approval, for his praise…”</p><p>His eyes are flaring with determination by the end of his angry tirade, but his opponent seems completely unaffected as he chuckles darkly and hisses, “But <em>of course</em> you will, you silly little boy. Always following him like a lost puppy. Always reaching for his Light in your own Darkness. You are <em>nothing</em> without him. All you can do is his bidding. You don’t even know how <em>not</em> to take orders from him. He just points you in any direction he wants and off you go, toy soldier.”</p><p>Anakin pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.</p><p>“You think your words can get to me, but they can’t. Because you’re right,” he finally states, unusually calm and collected, a perfect imitation of his Master’s unflappable serenity. “I am not ashamed of it. I am <em>proud</em> that everything I do is for my Master. And right now, he wants me to bring him the crystal, so I will. And nothing will stop me. Not even you.”</p><p>Anakin closes his eyes. The dark waters swash and ripple around him, eerie with their unknown, unexplored depth. But a faint, wavering light is glimmering deep under the glossy surface, and Anakin steps into the waters and submerges, completely unafraid as he reaches for the star.</p><p>His fingers close over the hard, cold surface of a kyber crystal.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The ice of the frozen waterfall bursts and shatters into a million of glittering shards under his Force blow.</p><p>His ignited lightsaber hissing in his lowered right hand and his left hand still outstretched in front of him, Anakin stands in the gateway. <em>Triumphant</em>.</p><p>He is strong. He is powerful! He…runs to his Master like a scared little boy.</p><p>Having completely ignored Master Yoda addressing him, his powered down lightsaber falling discarded to the ground, Anakin dashes into the safety of his Master’s embrace faster than lightspeed. He wraps his arms around his Master’s neck and presses his face into his chest, closing his eyes as he listens to the steady beating of his Master’s heart.</p><p>He feels the Jedi’s arms immediately coming up around him, holding him tightly.</p><p>The <em>real</em> one. The <em>radiant</em> one. His shining aura seeps through the cracks of Anakin’s broken soul, mending and healing the fresh wounds.</p><p>“Shh,” his Master coos. “You are okay now.”</p><p>“No, no...” Anakin sobs as he shakes his head, his forehead still pressed into the man’s chest.</p><p>“Then let me help you,” his Master immediately offers, his voice soft and reassuring as he strokes up and down Anakin’s back soothingly. “What do you need? Tell me.”</p><p><em>I need you to love me, Master</em>, Anakin’s mind immediately supplies, unbidden and unhelpful. <em>I want you to love me, even though I know I don’t deserve it.</em></p><p>“Are you proud of me, Master?” he asks tearfully instead, looking up at the man, his eyes searching his face with hopeful desperation. “Please, tell me you are proud of me. <em>Please</em>.”</p><p>His Master’s eyebrows shoot up in clear surprise and he smiles indulgently. “But <em>of course</em>.”</p><p>“No.” Anakin shakes his head again, his gaze distraught with obvious distress. “No, <em>say it</em>, Master. I need to hear it. I <em>need</em>–”</p><p>Anakin knows he is pathetic – being this greedy and childish, demanding his Master’s attention and affection like a whiny toddler. And he <em>hates</em> that his Master is virtually forced to take care of him, but he <em>loves</em> it when he does. He just can’t help it – he <em>needs</em> it.</p><p>He chokes on a sob and almost falls to the ground when his knees buckle from the whisper that burns his ear.</p><p>“I am very proud of you, Anakin. You are such a good boy, aren’t you?”</p><p>Anakin whimpers pathetically at the praise, hiding his flushed, tear-stained face in the curve of his Master’s throat.</p><p>He is sniffling continuously now, his fists clenching in the folds of his Master’s robes, holding on with a death grip and determined to never let go.</p><p>He was needy and vulnerable to begin with. Entering the Caves of Ilum was supposed to help him <em>overcome</em> his fears. Instead, it has just added a whole new level to his insecurities.</p><p>Never before has he been so acutely aware of how completely <em>dependent</em> on his Master he really is. And he just <em>knows</em> that this one fear he can never ever overcome: he is afraid – absolutely and utterly <em>terrified</em> – of losing him. The very thought of it makes Anakin sick to his stomach.</p><p>His touch, his voice, his very presence in the Force is the only thing that can center Anakin’s reeling mind, calm down his raging storm of emotions and troubled thoughts. Losing him would be losing <em>everything</em>.</p><p>“I <em>can’t</em> lose you, Master, you’re all I have,” Anakin whispers hotly and with such frantic urgency as though he were feverish. “Promise me you won’t leave me.”</p><p>“I will always be with you, my dear Padawan,” his Master mercifully responds to his ardent plea. But his assurance is barely enough to keep Anakin’s fear of abandonment at bay.</p><p>He needs to know for a fact, beyond any doubt, that he is cherished and protected when he is like this – falling apart in his Master’s embrace. That he doesn’t have to be afraid of anything because his Master is there with him, just like the Force itself. <em>Always</em>.</p><p>He is trembling. He is feeling weak, and dizzy, and overwhelmed. And he wants more. He <em>needs</em> more. <em>Please</em>.</p><p>“Please, Master,” his lips whisper hotly before he can even think about it. “Call me your <em>dear</em> again. Call me <em>Ani</em>.”</p><p>As if having used the Force suggestion, Anakin seems to entrance his Master with his needy pleas. Hypnotized, he echoes his apprentice’s words in a deep, mellow voice.</p><p>“My dear Ani…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Don’t leave me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He is already thirteen. He is not a child anymore, and yet, he still sleeps with his ugly stuffed Ewok toy he made himself out of his Master’s old brown cloak back when he was nine. The stitches are all askew and the buttons of the eyes don’t match either in size or in color, but Anakin loves his old bear anyway.</p>
<p>Now that he is, <em>apparently</em>, “too old” to come to his Master’s room in the middle of a night under the pretense of having bad dreams, this toy made from the very fabric his Master used to wear, is the only thing keeping Anakin calm enough to fall asleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He jerks awake – soaked in sweat and gasping with hot, parched lips – from the feeling of his soul being <em>ripped out</em> of him.</p>
<p>The panic has already coiled tightly around his chest, not letting him take a breath or even scream from the pain that is burning his insides.</p>
<p>
  <em>Master!</em>
</p>
<p>He calls out through their Bond as he scrambles out of bed.</p>
<p>“Master!” he begs as he stumbles to the man’s bedroom on his wobbly legs, barely able to see anything through the tears. “<em>Master!</em>”</p>
<p>But the bedroom is empty and the Bond is cut off. And he can’t sense his Master’s presence in the Force…</p>
<p>His guiding star has gone dark on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He doesn’t remember how exactly he got here. Yet here he is – barefoot and still dressed only in his sleeping pants and tunic, breathless from running all across the Temple and sobbing uncontrollably – he stands in the middle of the Council Chamber and demands in a shaky voice:</p>
<p>“Where is my Master?!”</p>
<p>For a few moments, the members of the Council remain silent, staring at him in shock and confusion, until Master Yoda finally finds his words.</p>
<p>“Calm yourself, you must, young Padawan,” he urges and assures, “no reason to worry, there is.”</p>
<p>“Why can’t I feel his Force Signature?! <em>Where is he?!</em>” Anakin is taking deep breaths, trying to force his pulse back under control, but his heart is pounding with a heavy, deadened sound, as if seeking to break out of his ribcage.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump. Thump. Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>In the dead silence of the Council Chamber.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump. Thump. Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Why are they all silent? Why is nobody answering him?</p>
<p>
  <em>Thump. Thump. Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>“WHERE. IS. HE?!” he screams, and the windows of the round room burst outward in millions and millions of sharp pieces.</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>for Force’s sake, </em>boy! Your Master is on his way to a secret mission. It requires masking his Signature!” Master Depa Billaba finally shouts over the deafening sound of the wind now bursting into the gaping holes in the walls as she grabs her chair for purchase.</p>
<p>“He couldn’t have gone without telling me!” Anakin yells, standing in the middle of the havoc he has caused, immovable and resolute, his hands tightened into fists and his eyes dark with rage. “Where is he? Tell me <em>now!</em>”</p>
<p>The walls shake.</p>
<p>Masters Shaak Ti and Stass Allie, in the chaos of their billowing robes, lunge to cover Grand Master Yoda from falling pieces of the cracked ceiling.</p>
<p>Masters Saesee Tiin, Coleman Kcaj and Oppo Rancisis spread their arms in an attempt to create a Force field around the Chamber to protect it from the vicious gale, but a sudden gust pushes them off their feet, making them grab their chairs and hold on to them for dear life.</p>
<p>Masters Plo Koon and Ki-Adi-Mundi are gesticulating wildly and shouting something, but their voices are drowned in the groan of the wind.</p>
<p>The only one remaining mostly calm in all this chaos, Master Mace Windu throws a very quick, discreet glance behind Anakin’s back, but Anakin still catches it. He jerks his head to see what Windu was looking at: there is a transport departing from the Temple’s landing platform.</p>
<p>In a flash, Anakin’s hand shoots out, reaching for the ship in a grabbing gesture.</p>
<p><em>Come to me! </em>A familiar notion immediately springs to mind.</p>
<p>With a loud protesting screech, the transport freezes mid-air.</p>
<p>And then Anakin just <em>pulls</em>, his eyes fixed on the ship, his teeth clenched in concentration, and his thin tunic whipping around him in an ominous way.</p>
<p>The shuttle shakes and wheezes, letting out a series of spluttering and rattling sounds, but slowly, reluctantly starts to draw back to the landing pad.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Anakin reaches the platform, the transport is already on the pad, a little bumped and slightly tilted to the side, but appearing mainly intact.</p>
<p>Under the pull of Anakin’s Force grasp, the ramp opens like a tin can, with a loud metallic squeak, and falls heavily onto the duracrete surface of the landing pad.</p>
<p>His hood pulled up and his arms crossed under his flowing robes, Obi-Wan Kenobi steps out of the ship. His Force Signature – <em>radiant, and golden, and warm</em> – brushes along Anakin’s own in a gentle, soothing gush.</p>
<p>“<em>Well</em>?” His eyebrow arches expectantly as he spreads his arms in an overdramatic T-pose. “Did you miss me terribly?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anakin doesn’t even run to him – he nearly <em>hyper-jumps</em> into his Master’s arms.</p>
<p>A complete sobbing mess, he clings to him, trembling like a leaf in the wind, his knuckles going white from the force of his desperate grip on his Master’s robes.</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t leave me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t leave me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t leave me.</em>
</p>
<p>Like a mantra rushing in endless waves through their bond.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your Padawan is completely out of control!” Mace Windu’s stern voice behind Anakin’s back breaks their peaceful moment, making Anakin startle in his Master’s embrace.</p>
<p>“I <em>am</em> the control,” Obi-Wan retorts boldly, his words sending a strange, sudden jolt of hot pleasure all over Anakin’s body, making him gasp and shudder. “I <em>told</em> you I shouldn’t have left without telling Anakin. The Council should have let me warn him.”</p>
<p>“The High Council does not answer to your Padawan, Kenobi.” Windu sneers, lifting his chin with a condescending look on his face.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t it?” Obi-Wan smirks with a mocking eyebrow waggle. “But it looks like someone has told him <em>exactly</em> where to find me.”</p>
<p>“Skywalker has shown a total lack of respect! He even dared to <em>threaten</em> the Council! His actions jeopardized the safety of the Temple and completely ruined the confidential nature of your mission! He will be expelled from the Order immediately!” Windu rants, a vein throbbing in his forehead and his nostrils flaring.</p>
<p>“The boy simply panicked, Windu. Don’t you see, he is just a crying, scared child,” Obi-Wan tries to reason with a soft, indulgent smile, but Windu remains adamant.</p>
<p>“Well, that is <em>exactly</em> the problem here, Kenobi. He is not supposed to be ‘<em>a crying, scared child’</em>. He is supposed to be <em>a Jedi apprentice</em> who can <em>control</em> his emotions. Perhaps if you had taught him better–”</p>
<p>In less than a second, Anakin – who previously remained silent and mellow, snuggled up against his Master’s chest – whirls around. Obeying his Force command, his Master’s lightsaber springs from where it is clipped to his belt right into Anakin’s hand. It hisses – azure and angry – a mere inch away from Windu’s throat.</p>
<p>“What did you just say about my Master?” Anakin bares his teeth, his expression darkening and his eyes blazing with rage.</p>
<p>A shadow of fear momentarily flashes across Mace Windu’s usually self-assured face.</p>
<p>Anakin sneers.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna regret this, Master Windu.”</p>
<p>“Anakin, <em>no</em>,” his Master’s voice gently admonishes, giving his Padawan a softened look of disapproval that makes Anakin’s skin crawl.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He <em>hates</em> to just let it slide.</p>
<p>How dare this smug bastard question his Master’s teaching methods?</p>
<p>But Anakin knows exactly how to differentiate between his Master’s suggestions and commands.</p>
<p>Sometimes it’s an annoyed but slightly amused <em>Anakin, no! </em>and it means <em>Anakin, (maybe) yes.</em></p>
<p>But when it is pronounced in that calm but firm and demanding baritone, then <em>Anakin, no</em> means <em>Anakin, no</em>. And Anakin obeys the order without questions, every time dreading to hear the unspoken <em>Bad Anakin! Bad!</em></p>
<p>His Master is called <em>the Negotiator</em> for a reason. The gift to thrill souls with simple words has turned into a sword in his hands. And he wields it – sharp, and merciless, and deadly. But when those words are addressed to him, his stubborn apprentice, they are always soft and gentle. And it’s even worse. Because then the words are a slow poison – and Anakin is completely <em>entranced</em> by them, utterly wrecked even by the sound of his own name. Because only Master knows how to say it just right – in his posh Coruscanti accent.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ah-nakin.</em>
</p>
<p>Like a crack of a whip.</p>
<p>No wonder something snaps in Anakin every time his Master addresses him and gives him an order. He suddenly feels this urge to echo it back and do exactly as he was told. And not only is he ready to comply – he is <em>addicted</em> to it. Almost on the verge of begging for more. Because his entire being <em>shudders</em> in pleasure every time he gets the chance to bow his head and mutter his obedient <em>Yes, Master.</em></p>
<p>He thirsts for that feeling. He craves to see his Master’s approving smile. He longs for his Master’s praise.</p>
<p><em>Good boy, Anakin</em>, he will say.</p>
<p>And Anakin will be <em>ecstatic</em>, completely enraptured and mesmerized by those simple words. He will do <em>anything</em> to deserve them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anakin, <em>no</em>.”</p>
<p>“As you wish, Master.” His lips pressed tight but his head bowed in submission – <em>Anakin, no </em>– Anakin lowers the lightsaber and steps back from Windu.</p>
<p>He is immediately rewarded with his Master’s hand tousling his short hair in an affectionate gesture.</p>
<p>Anakin fights the urge to butt into that hand and purr like a giant Loth-cat at the touch. He just lets out a content sigh as his eyelids droop under Windu’s shocked stare.</p>
<p>“Your–” Windu chokes with indignation. “Your Padawan has just attacked me! I’ll have him arrested for this!”</p>
<p>“You shall not.” His Master’s voice sounds to Anakin as calm and serene as ever, but there is something dangerous about the way he tilts his head to the side just slightly. “You shall go to the Council and let them know <em>the famed</em> <em>Negotiator</em> has rejected the Naboo mission in order to provide better guidance for his apprentice, <em>the Chosen One</em>.”</p>
<p>Windu’s jaw muscles clench along with his fists.</p>
<p>“Who do you think you are to give me orders, Kenobi? Do you really think that being a teacher to this <em>insolent brat</em> somehow makes you entitled? He’s only allowed in here to be the <em>shield</em> for the Temple in case something goes wrong with the prophecy. He is not your…your <em>flaming sword of righteousness</em>.”</p>
<p>Anakin only gets a one-second warning, barely enough for him to turn his head to his Master, when he sees a blast of Light sending a wave of blinding whiteness in all directions from the man.</p>
<p>The platform shakes under Anakin’s feet, and he struggles to stay upright but almost immediately falls to the ground, pressing his hands to his ears, too overwhelmed by the sudden loss of sight and the high-pitched <em>beeeeeeeeeep</em> sound, piercing through his entire being.</p>
<p>Completely shell-shocked and disoriented, Anakin doesn’t know how long he stays like that. All he knows is that he shouldn’t fight it. He should just wait it out. It’s not <em>him</em> the Light is angry at.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It all stops as suddenly as it started.</p>
<p>Anakin relaxes his scrunched-up face and lets his hands fall from covering his ears to support his weight on the ground.</p>
<p>The first thing he sees when the black and white snow of dots clouding his vision finally disappears, is his Master’s figure, towering over Windu’s shaking form sprawled at his feet and fumbling in a futile attempt to get up.</p>
<p>The realization hits Anakin like a Star Destroyer: this – <em>this thing</em> is what lies under his Master’s always unflappable attitude. And all that cool and distant demeanor of his is not at all a manifestation of his perfect Jedi serenity. It is an embodiment of his ruthless, calculating control. And that blast – that blast was but <em>a</em> <em>mere glimpse</em> of what might happen when that control is lost, when Obi-Wan Kenobi is not…<em>contained</em>.</p>
<p>His Master’s face looks completely dispassionate as he addresses Windu and a light, warm smile touches his lips in a <em>shocking</em> contrast to his firm voice, which makes Anakin’s knees go weak even though he is already kneeling on the ground.</p>
<p>“My apprentice is what <em>I say</em> he is.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Pacify me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At fifteen, Anakin decides it’s time to redecorate his room a little.</p>
<p>“Wow! That’s...not at all dramatic, Anakin.” Voice heavy with sarcasm, arms folded and an eyebrow raised, his Master is standing in the doorway, eyeing the lightsaber scorch marks on the opposite wall. “You do know that’s not how my name is actually spelled, right?”</p>
<p>With a <em>not-at-all-dramatic</em> eye roll and a groan, Anakin flops backward onto his bed and flings one arm over his face to cover up his flaming cheeks as he vocally wishes for death.</p>
<p>Behind him, in huge block letters, the wall reads:</p>
<p>OB1</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Okay, maybe it was a little dramatic. So what?</p>
<p>How else is he supposed to show his Master that he is the most important thing – <em>the only</em> important thing – in his life?</p>
<p>It’s not like he can give him flowers or gifts. All because the stupid, <em>stupid</em> Jedi Code – rather rudely, by the way – condemns material possessions.</p>
<p>And it’s not like he can outright confess his feelings either, because – apparently – <em>“attachment is not the Jedi way, Anakin</em><em>”.</em></p>
<p>What even <em>is</em> that kriffing Jedi way, really?</p>
<p>Hard as he tries, Anakin still cannot grasp the point of pushing all of his emotions, and fears, and desires down, letting them boil a little and then just waiting for them to blow up right in his face.</p>
<p>At least, that’s what Anakin keeps getting every time he tries that shit.</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no emotion, there is peace.</em>
</p>
<p>Bantha fodder! There is no peace for him. He is caught in a constant whirlwind of anxiety, jealousy, awe, adoration, devotion, admiration, possessiveness and love. <em>All</em> of those – because of one person.</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.</em>
</p>
<p>If there is knowledge, he doesn’t know where or what it is. The only knowledge he, personally, possesses is that he has no hope of his Master – <em>his perfect, and serene, and dispassionate Jedi Master </em>– ever loving him back.</p>
<p>And frankly, he would trade that particular piece of painful knowledge for a bit of blissful ignorance and foolish hope any day.</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no passion, there is serenity.</em>
</p>
<p>Right, right. There <em>is</em> serenity. But it seems that Obi-Wan Kenobi has <em>all of it</em> now. While Anakin himself is a ball of pining, and craving, and longing, and desire, and barely controllable constant arousal. He is burning from the inside. There is lava flowing through his veins. His very soul is on fire. But <em>sure</em>, there is no kriffing passion. Just this Sith-forsaken fiery hell.</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no chaos, there is harmony.</em>
</p>
<p>At that one Anakin can’t help but laugh every time. He laughs and laughs, laughs and laughs, until he is completely hysterical, until he can’t breathe from his uncontrollable sobbing, until he weeps his eyes out, whimpering and whining as he falls to the floor, begging for his Master to come and find him. To gently gather him in his strong arms. To kiss him soothingly on the forehead. To let him tuck his wet, teary face into the crook of this neck and breathe, breathe him in until he passes out from his emotional overload.</p>
<p>And if he doesn’t come in time… Well… There is always this other option where the Force bursts out of him in an uncontrollable torrent, sweeping away everything in its path and wreaking havoc. And it’s probably a good thing that they don’t have much stuff (the stuff they do have, is either completely broken or has been fixed too many times anyway).</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no death, there is the Force.</em>
</p>
<p>Which means no matter how much he suffers in this life, even after death, there’s no rest for him. Just kriffing great!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The recitation of the Code’s mantra always fails to calm him down, but never fails to get him in one of his moods. Oh well, at least one constant he can always rely on.</p>
<p>Anakin sighs and stares up at the soot-covered, sharp-edged cuts running deep into the metal of the wall.</p>
<p>They are but a mere reflection of what his soul looks like, scarred by his Master’s sizzling starlight.</p>
<p>OB1, the wall reads.</p>
<p>OB1, the scars spell. </p>
<p>“<em>Obi-Wan,</em>” Anakin’s lips keep whispering like a mantra.</p>
<p>And it calms him down.</p>
<p>Where <em>he</em> is all emotion, and ignorance, and passion, and chaos, and death – <em>Obi-Wan</em> is peace, and knowledge, and serenity, and harmony, and the Force itself.</p>
<p>And Obi-Wan is all there is.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Hurt me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p><p>This story was partially inspired by this art:<br/><a href="https://demonsarejustfallenangels.tumblr.com/post/146425504330/a-smiling-travesty-the-cosmos-is-within-us">https://demonsarejustfallenangels.tumblr.com/post/146425504330/a-smiling-travesty-the-cosmos-is-within-us</a></p><p>And this art – I only found it after I finished writing, but this is it – this is my story in a nutshell :))<br/><a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EXphbIOU0AAk42B?format=png&amp;name=small">https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EXphbIOU0AAk42B?format=png&amp;name=small</a></p><p>Huge thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos for my work!<br/>It is almost finished. It took me 8 months to write, and I am very new to this fandom, and although I did quite a bit of research, I might have still made some canon-related mistakes.<br/>Please take a moment to let me know what you think.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even though his Master keeps his promise and provides Anakin with comforting embraces when he needs them, he never <em>ever</em> initiates them himself. He always remains distant. Detached. All that beauty, and kindness, and grace, and power – absolutely <em>unattainable</em>, covered with a shield of his damnable aloof serenity.</p><p>And Anakin watches him with some kind of reverence, like a poor child clinging to a window of a candy store, knowing full well that he will never get what he wants.</p><p>His Master will never love him the way Anakin loves him. There is no place for such extreme attachment in his heart. In fact, there is no place for any attachment at all. For him there is only duty. All of his devotion is to the Order. He remains true and loyal to the Code. He clings to his Jedi ideals so desperately, as though he can feel them slipping away from him somehow. And in his desire to hold on to the only thing he knows in his life, he is completely oblivious of how toxic those ideals are, how they restrain him, how they make him unnaturally uptight. Even his Jedi attire starts to reflect on how more and more constricted by his beliefs he is gradually becoming. His undertunic creeps higher and higher up his neck – <em>stifling and suffocating</em> – binding so tightly around his throat, as though it wanted to actually choke him. He is almost swallowed up by the insane amount of heavy, harsh fabric – <em>not an inch</em> of uncovered skin aside from his face and hands. And it is so <em>kriffing</em> <em>infuriating!</em></p><p>He couldn’t touch before, but now he can’t even look! Anakin is almost on the point of actually <em>crying</em> with frustration. He is so desperate he almost passes out every time his Master (on a rare occasion) removes his vambraces and Anakin gets a glimpse of his naked wrists. And Anakin knows he doesn’t deserve even that. After all, he’s just a stupid former slave boy who was unimaginably lucky to end up with the most desirable Jedi Master in the Galaxy. He knows all that, but he still can’t tame his feelings. He wants to tear at his Master’s damned robes of chastity and rip them apart. He wants to batter and smash through the walls of his Master’s Jedi calm. He wants to break them down. He wants to burst into his inner Temple of Tranquility like a savage heathen, grab his revered serenity from its altar and <em>shatter</em> it. Break it into a million pieces! He wants to sprawl out on the altar in its place, shameless and desperate in his desire to be his Master’s sole focus.</p><p>“Look at me, Master!” he wants to cry. “Pay attention to me! I want <em>all</em> of it! I want you to think only about me!”</p><p>But he is afraid, <em>terrified </em>that his Master will turn him away, that one day he might reach out in the Force to where his Master’s halo is shining – the Light streaming out from its center, bright and solemn, nothing at all like the Darkness that emanates from Anakin’s own core – he might want to wrap his aura around it in a gentle hug, but instead of being welcomed as usual, he would feel his Master’s radiant essence <em>rejecting</em> his Darkness.</p><p>In fact, that could happen at any moment: all he has to do is merely cause his Master to lose his patience with him – and that would be it…</p><p>The very thought makes Anakin hyperventilate on the verge of hysteria. That’s why he never tests to which extent his Master is ready to be lenient with him. Well, not <em>really</em> anyway…</p><p>Instead he just takes what little physical contact he can get from his Master’s consoling embraces. But…he is <em>sixteen</em>. He is perpetually frustrated and entirely desperate, so the tenderness his Master occasionally shows him seems to be only a temporary fix which makes Anakin feel much worse when it’s over. The withdrawal is cruel and devastating, but Anakin keeps coming back for more. Every time.</p><p>All he needs is a good pretense.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Lightsaber practice and sparring – good enough excuses for Anakin to shamelessly stare at his Master or even get to touch him – are supposed to be helping with his pent-up frustration. They are meant to provide an outlet for all these boiling emotions that fill Anakin to the brim. They should be bringing the much-needed relief.</p><p>They don’t.</p><p>Instead, they are <em>torture</em>.</p><p>Not physically, of course (although the sight of his Master dressed only in his undertunic, all sweating and panting, comes pretty close in Anakin’s humble opinion), but the desire Anakin has to overcome every time is much worse than fighting an entire army. Especially because it is a battle he can never win.</p><p>He can’t just stop staring hungrily at his Master’s lean form. He can’t just stop following his every move with his eyes when the Jedi prowls around him, graceful and deadly, his lightsaber a streak of blue swirling around him in а rapid, flash-like dance. It captivates and dazzles Anakin completely, leaving him hypnotized and distracted – easy prey for his mischievously grinning adversary.</p><p>Unsurprisingly and inevitably, Anakin ends up on the ground – <em>defeated</em> – either with the tip of his Master’s low-powered blade pointing at his throat or pinned down under him, barely an inch away from his strong, hard body.</p><p><em>Torture</em>.</p><p>It’s torture not to be allowed to press shamelessly against it.</p><p>It’s torture not to moan when his Master’s hot exhales sear the naked skin of his submissively presented throat.</p><p>It’s torture to not even be able to take his Master’s hand and place it over his heart so that he could feel it beating wildly, frantically, almost breaking his ribcage in its ecstatic, rapturous euphoria of being so close to the object of its desire.</p><p><em>It is all for you, Master,</em> Anakin wants to exhale into his lips. But he <em>can’t</em>. He is not supposed to. It’s the most twisted, cruel and sadistic torture Anakin can imagine, and he isn’t sure how much more of that he can take before he dies, consumed by his unbearable agony. Agony where there isn’t supposed to be anything. Agony where there should be no emotions at all. Only <em>peace</em>.</p><p>But you know what? Anakin would choose his dear old agony over that improbable peace of theirs any time.</p><p>
  <em>Peace is a lie.</em>
</p><p>And he is sick and tired of hearing about it. Tired of the kriffing Jedi and their blasted Code. Of how “strong and powerful” he is supposed to be. The Chosen One with no choice.</p><p>And what if he doesn’t want to be strong and powerful? What if all he wants is to submit to someone even stronger than him, to be pinned down and filled up, to just lie there and take it like a good boy. And of course, it’s just his <em>non-existent</em> luck that the only person who can have him like that is his completely and utterly <em>unattainable</em> Master – the man who will never just grab him, will never push him down to the ground, will never just use his body as he pleases. <em>Never</em>.</p><p>But Anakin indulges in that shameless fantasy nonetheless. He fuels it with the images and memories of touches from his sparring lessons with his Master. The dance of heated, sweaty bodies. The large hands on his skin inflamed with desire. The strong arms pushing and wrestling him into submission. The ragged breaths against his neck. The low, husky voice commanding him to yield…</p><p>Anakin doesn’t mind being manhandled at all – he<em> loves</em> the rough treatment. It only adds another spark to the roaring flame of his desire. The sensation of a hard, lean body pressed against his back and holding him down is strangely comforting in its meditative way: that honey-thick, enveloping feeling he gets when his body takes the full weight of his Master’s is inexplicably satisfying. There is some kind of serenity within it – to be absolutely powerless and helpless, surrendering completely to his Master’s mercy. And it’s the only serenity Anakin knows.</p><p>Instead, he knows all about <em>tension</em>. Oh, that <em>delicious, glorious</em> tension. It feels like standing in the way of a rising tidal wave, hypnotized and unable to move, just watching it whirl up and approach with inexorable speed. One day it will just crush him and wash him away. Maybe even today…</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Today he has been especially clumsy with his jabs and punches.</p><p>Perhaps, it would be easier if he wasn’t so painfully turned on that he can barely breathe, let alone fight. He keeps going on pure instinct and training reflexes, and his Master knows it.</p><p>Can’t <em>not</em> know.</p><p>If anything, he looks amused by Anakin’s feeble attempts at fighting him off. All his grips are loose and all his punches are aimed mostly strategically, not meaning to really hurt. He is just toying with his poor, breathless, sweaty Padawan.</p><p>Anakin feels so pathetic he wants to cry.</p><p>Too dizzy and overwhelmed by his own treacherous body, Anakin isn’t quick enough to turn around after he was thrown into the wall, and it allows his Master to catch him by the back of his neck and kick his knees. </p><p>Anakin tumbles to the ground, face-first, with a rather undignified yelp.</p><p>His Master’s hand reaches out to grab a fistful of his unruly curls – Anakin has grown them out in sheer defiance of the stupid traditional Padawan haircut. Master has never objected. Never even mentioned it, but it doesn’t mean he can’t teach him a lesson. And now is, evidently, the time for Anakin to regret his rash decision to be rebellious.</p><p>A startled gasp that escapes Anakin’s lips turns into a groan as he sprawls on the mats, his body convulsing in the shocking, devastating rush of pleasure spreading out from where Master is tugging at his hair.</p><p>Through the haze of his delight, Anakin feels his Master’s knee pressing between his shoulder blades and pinning him to the ground. Making him <em>submit</em>.</p><p>“Aah!” Anakin whines, his fingers helplessly scratching against the mat.</p><p><em>So good.</em> It feels <em>so kriffing good.</em></p><p>“You are hurting me, Master,” he breathes out, almost whimpers, in astonishment, his voice too shaky with the sudden onslaught of pleasure.</p><p><em>Please don’t stop,</em> he wants to beg, but too late – his Master has already released him and taken a step back, looking patiently at the utter mess his Padawan is and waiting for him to get up.</p><p>Anakin doesn’t want to get up – Anakin wants to die. Just die like this: in an undignified heap of limbs on the floor, drowned by the wave of his own raging hormones.</p><p>He tries to lever himself on his wobbly arms, but they won’t hold him up. His body suddenly seems too heavy, filled with lead of mortification.</p><p>His flaming face still tucked into the mat, Anakin feels rather than sees his Master kneel beside him, his palm landing in a comforting touch to where his knee was pressing him to the ground just a few moments ago.</p><p>“Are you okay, Ani? How badly does it hurt?”</p><p>Oh, it <em>hurts </em>all right. Just not physically. Well, <em>almost</em> physically.</p><p>Anakin’s shoulders start to shake with hysterical laughter.</p><p><em>You have no idea, Master!</em> he wants to shout out from the depth of his despair.</p><p>“Let me heal you, dear one.”</p><p>Anakin feels big, gentle palms carefully tug at his shoulders, turning him over onto his back.</p><p>A trickle of blood running from his split lip, Anakin is looking up at his Master with his eyes wide and his pupils dilated and impossibly dark.</p><p>“You can’t heal what is hurting me, Master,” he whispers with hopeless fatality before his body starts shaking with frantic laughter of the oncoming hysteria again.</p><p>“Anakin, why are you being resentful again? What did I do this time?” Master looks truly lost, and the softness of his eyes can’t hide his weariness. “I know you are a teenager and probably think your boring Master is too old to understand your problems but… If we could just talk–”</p><p>Filled with sudden anger, Anakin pushes his Master’s hands away.</p><p>“Stop! Stop it! You can’t fix me! You can’t–” He tries to get up, but is immediately slammed back into the mat.</p><p>“You need to calm down, Anakin.”</p><p>His Master straddles him, effectively holding him down while wrestling with his arms.</p><p>“Let go of me, Master! Let me go! I don’t want your pity! Let go!” Anakin keeps smacking against his chest, trying to push him away with unexpected vigor.</p><p>But the Jedi’s hold on him is secure.</p><p>It is so typical of him – to be so utterly immovable, and balanced, and in control even in the face of his Padawan’s wild, unrestrained rage. If Anakin Skywalker were a Jedi blade – sharp and merciless – then Obi-Wan Kenobi would be Mandalorian iron, strong and unyielding, made to withstand any attack. So all Anakin’s writhing, twisting and squirming under him, all his struggle in pathetic attempts to free himself is completely futile. And Anakin just stops resisting.</p><p>Pinned down on both sides of his head, Anakin’s wrists are held firmly in his Master’s grip. And Anakin just lies there, no longer struggling or protesting, just looking up at the man with a startled expression, his lips parted and his eyes huge. His chest is rising and falling heavily as he pants for breath like some wild animal, exhausted and subdued, void of any anger or despair. All that is left, is a roaring tempest of forbidden desire.</p><p>Hot flush spreads over Anakin’s face when it finally dawns on him just how compromising his position is: splayed out under his Master and his hands pulled above in his strong hold, he suddenly feels exposed and vulnerable and…</p><p>He <em>loves</em> it.</p><p>“<em>Master</em>…” his voice comes, a whine and a gasp all at once, as he throws his head back, rolling his eyes in sheer ecstasy of full and unconditional surrender. “Ahh…”</p><p>“Stop faking it, Anakin. You are not hurt.” It is a statement, not a question. <em>An accusation. </em>“You lost on purpose. You <em>wanted</em> to lose.”</p><p>His Master’s voice is as sure as it always is when it comes to seeing all through Anakin’s bantha shit. But this time – this time it is also tinged with irritation and disappointment.</p><p><em>Bad</em>. <em>Really bad.</em></p><p>But his Master’s hot, ragged breath burns Anakin’s exposed neck, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body, and Anakin doesn’t feel like he has lost. Not at all.</p><p>“You wanted it like this, didn’t you? Wanted me to hurt you, wrestle you into submission,” the man snarls against the shell of Anakin’s ear, grabbing a fistful of his hair and making him look up. “Didn’t you, Padawan?”</p><p>“Yes, Master,” Anakin mewls obediently, his mouth falling open and his eyes rolling in the back of his head from the pleasure he can no longer hold back.</p><p><em>Rough. He is </em>finally<em> rough with him. Finally giving him something other than his infinite kindness which almost suffocates Anakin with how undeserving of it he is.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>But in the very next moment, his Master abruptly releases his hold on him, quickly rising up and muttering something like “Kriffing rebellious teenagers!” under his breath.</p><p>He shakes his head in clear disappointment.</p><p>“If you want to hate me – just hate me, Anakin. There is no need to look for excuses to blame me. And don’t you try to <em>actually</em> make me a villain of your story ever again. It has never been my intention to hurt you, and you know it.”</p><p>One moment he was there, and the next – the Training Hall is empty, except for Anakin’s pitiful form on the ground.</p><p>His Master’s sudden hasty exit has left him so startled and stunned that he doesn’t even try to move: he just keeps lying there, the way his Master held him, as if he was still pinned in place by his hands and body.</p><p>“But I <em>wanted</em> you to hurt me,” Anakin whispers into the emptiness.</p><p>He closes his eyes and presses his wrists into the mat above his head, recalling the feeling of his Master’s rough, angry hold on him.</p><p>Anakin had never been so aroused in his entire life – as though some kind of aphrodisiac was seeping into his veins through his skin where his Master’s hands were pressing tightly.</p><p>Anakin holds up his right hand before his eyes and stares at it, mesmerized by the pattern of bluish-red bruises forming quickly around his wrist.</p><p>It is the most precious gift his Master could give him. It is the <em>proof</em> that it was real. Not just one of Anakin’s dirty, twisted fantasies. <em>Real</em>.</p><p>He was actually <em>there</em>, splayed under his Master, pinned down and helpless, completely vulnerable, begging to be used, just like he always wanted to be.</p><p>Anakin clasps his palm around his abused wrist, his grip tightening as he presses it back over his head and closes his eyes, relishing the idea of his Master doing that to him again – giving him pain and pleasure, making him submit, filling that hungry void in his chest. The one that craves only Obi-Wan Kenobi and can only be sated by him and him alone.</p><p>Anakin saw him then, saw his serenity slip for a mere fleeting moment to make room for other things. <em>Dangerous things.</em> Perhaps, if he pushes a little harder next time...those things might come out and play.</p><p>Or <em>devour</em> him whole.</p><p>He wouldn’t mind that at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N 1:<br/>You might have noticed that I gave Obi-Wan vambraces, even though in canon he only started to wear them during the Clone Wars. There are actually two reason for that.<br/>The first and most obvious one is, of course, to create a Victorian style torture for our poor, thirsty Anakin :))<br/>The second is also quite simple and more of a practical one. I mean, have you seen those ridiculous sleeves flapping in the wind? How can anyone possibly fight with them constantly getting in the way? No, there should have been vambraces from the start.</p><p>A/N 2:<br/>I honestly just hate that abomination they call a Padawan haircut, so I got rid of it in this fic. Please enjoy Anakin’s glorious curls without losing the Padawan Braid. I mean, we all know how kinky things can get when it comes to it, right? ;)</p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Heal me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anakin is almost seventeen and old enough to stop sulking like a child and finally understand that his Master is doing his best to satisfy his <em>insatiable</em> need of contact. Yet he is still a Temple-raised Jedi, and, seeing how much he struggles with even the slightest displays of emotions, Anakin sometimes wonders whether his Master is human at all. He is trying to be generous with his praise and affection, knowing just how badly his Padawan craves them, but he still mostly looks lost and even somewhat overwhelmed every time Anakin all but begs for them.</p><p>
  <em>Will you hold me a little, Master?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Can I touch your hand when we meditate, Master?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>May I sit at your feet while you read, Master?</em>
</p><p>Every time the Jedi looks outright thunderstruck, but he keeps his promise and never turns Anakin away.</p><p>And yet, it’s still not enough. It’s never enough. And Anakin hates <em>how</em> <em>far</em> he is willing to go just to get a glimpse of his Master’s lenient kindness that is both sweet and painful for him to witness. It scares him how just one soft, indulgent smile can make him tremble with an all-consuming desire to serve. To be useful. To be good. <em>Anything</em> just to get even the briefest touch: a pat on the shoulder or a hair ruffle, and if he is really, <em>really</em> good, he might even get a forehead kiss. But it almost never happens anymore, so most of the time Anakin has to arrange elaborate set-ups to elicit a few crumbs of his Master’s attention. And they need to be good. Really, <em>really</em> good. Good enough to make his Master forget about his eluding and deflecting and masterful evasion, forget about being the kriffing Negotiator for one blasted minute and actually give his thirsty Padawan something. A smile. A touch. A look. Anything. <em>Anything</em>.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Won’t you heal me, Master?” Anakin looks at him with his entirely innocent puppy-eyes.</p><p>Obi-Wan immediately rolls his eyes in response.</p><p>“Will you ever grow out of your dramatic streak, Anakin? It’s just a tiny little cut. It will heal on its own in no time.”</p><p>“But Master!” Anakin looks affronted. “I am <em>bleeding out</em> here!”</p><p>He puts down the kitchen knife and raises his hand to demonstrate his palm covered in red liquid to his completely unimpressed Master.</p><p>Obi-Wan slaps his forehead with an annoyed growl, “Force help me! It’s not even <em>blood, </em>Anakin – it’s just <em>juice</em> from the tomato you’ve been cutting!”</p><p>“But I am suffering here, Master!” Anakin pouts petulantly. “You <em>have to</em> heal me!”</p><p>Obi-Wan pinches the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh.</p><p>“You know what? <em>Fine</em>. If you are indeed as hurt and bleeding as you claim to be, it is my duty as your Master to send you to the Halls of Healing, so off you go!” He gestures to the door impatiently.</p><p>“But…” Anakin stares at him in disbelief. “But you’ve <em>never</em> sent me to the Halls of Healing, Master! You’ve always tended to me <em>yourself</em>.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sending you there <em>now</em>,” Obi-Wan counters, throwing his head back in clear annoyance. “Go!”</p><p>Anakin crosses his arms on his chest and insists with stubborn determination, “No! Heal me with your Force healing, Master! <em>Or I will die.</em>”</p><p>“From a minor cut?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow ironically. “I doubt it.”</p><p>Anakin stares at him indignantly for a long moment before he throws his palms in the air. “Fine<em>!</em>”</p><p>He storms out of their quarters in an angry whirlwind of robes.</p><p> </p><p>In an hour, a Temple healer comms Obi-Wan to inform him that his Padawan is <em>dying</em>, even though there is nothing physically wrong with him.</p><p>Obi-Wan looks heavenward as he sighs.</p><p>
  <em>Of sheer stubbornness then. Amazing!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“The only physical injury we have been able to detect is a minor cut on his finger,” a Twi’lek female healer explains to Obi-Wan. “But it seems that the cut won’t heal, draining the living Force out of Padawan Skywalker’s body. His condition is deteriorating very quickly, I’m afraid. And whatever we try, the boy just doesn’t seem to <em>want</em> to get better. He is <em>resisting</em> us, Master Kenobi.”</p><p>“Thank you for all your efforts,” Obi-Wan says, bowing his head in gratitude, “but I think I’ll take it from here.”</p><p> </p><p>He enters Anakin’s ward, his arms crossed in a sign of annoyance, but they fall limply to his sides the moment he sees his Padawan – pale and unmoving – lying on the cot with his eyes staring up at the ceiling. Glassy and empty.</p><p>“Anakin!” Obi-Wan gasps in terror as he rushes over to his side. “Wake up!”</p><p>His stomach feels full of lead after his heart has dropped into it, beating wildly and choking on adrenaline.</p><p>“Ani!” Obi-Wan breathes out, barely audible, as he shakes his Padawan’s shoulders.</p><p>His body limp and unresponsive, Anakin lies in his arms like a rag doll.</p><p>“No, no, no, no, no...” Obi-Wan shakes his head in disbelief. “Please wake up, Ani…”</p><p>His hands cup his Padawan’s ashen face, his palm sliding over the boy’s messy hair in a gentle caress, before Obi-Wan leans over him, so close, almost pressing his forehead against his stubborn apprentice’s.</p><p>“Oh, Anakin, what have you done?” Obi-Wan whispers inches away from his whitened lips as he closes his eyes, concentrating on his aura, reaching out with it to wrap it tightly around Anakin’s – weak and receding inward – like a protective cocoon.</p><p>“Heal!” he orders sharply, sending a wave of energy into the black hole of Anakin’s soul, and feels it shudder in response, reaching out to meet him with desperate need.</p><p><em><strong>Pour your Light into me</strong>,</em> it whispers with greedy, insatiable desire as it clings to Obi-Wan’s starlight essence. <strong><em>Let me swallow you whole. I want to have all of you. Shine only for me.</em></strong></p><p>In the vast blackness of space – so achingly cold and cutting him with its sharpness – Obi-Wan feels like this black hole is the only thing truly <em>alive</em>. Hot and pulsing like a heartbeat, churning in its hunger and radiating this unbearable, dizzying<em> need</em>.</p><p>It will burn him if he reaches for it. He will be submerged by its intensity. He will be sucked into it – down and down – past the event horizon, into the bottomless gap where all matter ceases to exist and the infinite chaos reigns. He will fall deeper and deeper – to where his Light can no longer escape from – until there is nothing left of him…</p><p>And Obi-Wan knows he should draw back immediately, should remove his healing touch and stay as far away as possible. But he doesn’t. Because the black hole is pleading with him, enticing and magnetic in its promise of a warm, loving embrace, absolutely mesmerizing in its terrifying allure.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Fall into me. Let me wrap my velvet around you so gently, gently… Let me love you. Protect you. You’ll be safe within me. Master…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>So <em>no</em>, Obi-Wan doesn’t shrink back in horror and disgust as he should. Instead, his hand tightens in his Padawan’s hair and yanks him forward until their foreheads are pressed together.</p><p>“Let me in!” he hisses as his essence bangs against the boy’s mental shields with ruthless determination.</p><p>Once. Twice. Again. Again. Again.</p><p>No finesse. No sharp skill. Just power – raw and blunt and brutal – the only thing Anakin Skywalker will yield to.</p><p>“You <em>will</em> let me in!” he growls, punctuating every word with a reverberating clatter.</p><p>He strikes blow after blow, vicious and unrelenting, until in the thunder of his attack he seems to make out a breathless plea.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Harder, Master! Push harder! Harder…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>That desperate whine makes the last restraint in Obi-Wan’s soul snap with a <em>ping.</em></p><p>“You will surrender and let me in!” he grits through his teeth, pushing forward twice as hard, breaking his Padawan’s shatterproof shields with merciless, unrestrained force, until they crumble and tumble down in billions of sharp pieces. And he walks on them, <em>barefoot</em>, feeling them crunch and crack under his weight, until he is at the very epicenter of the crisis that is Anakin’s soul.</p><p>There, surrounded by the hungry Darkness, he lets his own halo suddenly expand and flood his Padawan’s whole being, engulfing and overwhelming him, <em>smothering</em> him completely until he stops resisting.</p><p>Anakin’s Force Signature trembles and stills under the pressure of Obi-Wan’s essence all around him, as if he was actually holding him down with a foot on his chest.</p><p>Obi-Wan looks down at his apprentice, pinned like a moth under him, just lying there, totally surrendering to Obi-Wan’s will. He could do anything he wanted to the stupid boy right now. He could break him – crush him under his foot, grind him into dust as if he was nothing. He could burn out his Dark presence like a mere stain on the fabric of the Force. And he would be <em>powerless</em> to stop him. No, he wouldn’t even <em>try</em> to stop him, poor naïve child. He would just lie there, all pliant and obedient for his Master. He would yield, just like he took to doing during their sparring sessions…</p><p>“Now be a good boy, Anakin, and don’t resist,” Obi-Wan orders, leaning over him and placing a hand around his throat to prevent him from trying to escape, and his Padawan’s Dark halo shudders, submissive and vulnerable, helplessly susceptible to his Master’s overpowering presence.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>I am yours. Do whatever you want to me.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Obi-Wan sighs.</p><p>“Let me heal you, you stupid child.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin jerks awake, gasping for breath and trembling all over.</p><p>He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe…</p><p>His lungs are burning as though he has been suffocating. He is gasping, gasping, trying to catch his breath with his open mouth, but he can’t. He can’t…</p><p>“Breathe for me, Ani,” his Master’s voice permits mercifully, and Anakin finally manages to inhale enough, entranced by the feeling of the hot palm around his throat slowly sliding away, revealing a necklace of bruises winding around his neck like a proud scattering of purple jewels.</p><p>His eyes opened wide, Anakin stares up at his Master’s face looming over his, drinking up every moment of his stormy blue gaze delving into his own, as though he may never get such undivided, all-consuming attention ever again.</p><p>“<em>Master</em>…” His lips part around the word with a soft exhalation of pleasure.</p><p>He has gotten what he wanted: for his Master to heal him – <em>fix</em> him – putting the shattered jigsaw puzzle of his essence back together, piece by piece, until he was whole again. Even if temporarily.</p><p>Yeah, he has gotten it, but at what cost?</p><p>Anakin shudders, suddenly distressed and anguished again: there is something vague but imminent, lingering darkly on the horizon of their Force Bond.</p><p>What if this time he has gone too far in his greedy, hungry longing for his Master, for the steady electric hum of his aura surrounding Anakin’s torn one with calm and soothing tones, for his unconditional comforting presence, enough to keep him centered and dissolve his roaring storm? What if Master doesn’t give it to him anymore? What if Master throws him out onto the street after what he has just pulled? What if…</p><p>Anakin starts trembling again as he lets out a heart-wrenching sob.</p><p>“Master, <em>please</em>… I’m sorry, I–” He throws his arms around his Master’s neck, pulling him down onto the cot with him, refusing to let him go.</p><p>“I <em>need</em> you. I can’t help it. I just can’t. <em>Please</em>…” he whispers urgently, hotly into his Master’s neck as he presses his nose into it, hiding his flushed, tear-stained face in an all too familiar gesture.</p><p>“You are almost old enough to be a Knight, but you are still a stupid little boy,” his Master murmurs the reproach, but his hands begin to gently card through Anakin’s hair anyway. “Do you even realize how badly you hurt yourself, Anakin?”</p><p>Anakin chokes on another sob, and Master doesn’t wait for his answer.</p><p>“You will <em>never</em> do that again.”</p><p>It’s not a request. It’s an outright order. And Anakin echoes it, his eyes closed and his lips half-open around a moan, “I will never do that again, <em>Master</em>.”</p><p>With only a moment’s hesitation, his Master presses his lips against Anakin’s wet, burning cheek in a light, chaste kiss, murmuring his approval.</p><p>“Good boy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Reassure me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He is eighteen now. He is an adult. And an almost completely trained warrior. Almost a Jedi Knight. Almost what his Master wants him to be. Almost…</p><p>What he lacks in tranquility, he compensates with his fighting skills. He practices and practices for hours on end. Always the first to the Training Halls in the morning and always the last to leave. He is the best among all the other Padawans. Hell, he is better than even Knights and Masters. The most powerful Force-wielder to ever live, the strongest of the Jedi Order, his every movement, every form honed to perfection… Still, only a pale, awkward <em>imitation</em> of his Master’s effortless, breathtaking grace. The ideal he can never ever reach, no matter how hard he tries. His knowledge, his technique, his skill – they all mean nothing, unless his Master’s eyes glimmer with pride and his lips part around actual <em>words</em> of praise.</p><p>
  <em>You’ve done beautifully, my Padawan.</em>
</p><p>For those words Anakin is prepared to bend over backwards, going through his katas day and night until his hands bleed around the hilt of his lightsaber.</p><p>Yes, he does <em>everything</em> for his Master’s approval. He dedicates every second of every day to reaching his unreachable perfection. And yet, it always seems to him that he isn’t good enough, that he isn’t worth the time and efforts his Master puts into him. He is not the perfect Padawan his perfect Jedi Master deserves.</p><p>He sees the looks other Masters and Padawans throw their way when they walk together through the sun-lit corridors of the Temple. He feels their wary interest under the guise of disdain and disgust. It’s all because of him, of course. <em>He</em> is the reason people stare at them, not his Master. The looks they send Master Kenobi’s way are sympathetic and pitying. And sometimes Anakin hears them whisper behind their backs.</p><p>
  <em>“…Obi-Wan must be crushed to be stuck with that walking disaster of a Padawan…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Poor Master Kenobi… so young… such talent… wasting his time on that useless boy...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Look how hard Skywalker is trying for his Master... As if he could ever come close to being worthy...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…He is so messed up… how does Obi-Wan even manage...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“… Saint Kenobi turned himself into a babysitter for the Sith spawn…”</em>
</p><p>It shouldn’t make Anakin angry. Because it is true. <em>All</em> of it.</p><p>He is not worthy of his Master, and no matter how hard he tries, he never will be.</p><p>He can’t control his emotions well enough for a simple human being, to say nothing of a future Jedi Knight.</p><p>He is almost constantly on the verge of hysteria.</p><p>He is clingy and needy like a toddler. </p><p>He can cry in his Master’s arms for hours, trembling and sobbing, a complete mess all around, just because the Force sometimes feels too intense and overwhelming and almost <em>unbearable</em>.</p><p>Master Obi-Wan Kenobi deserves better than a Padawan staring into the Dark abyss and ready to fall into it at any moment.</p><p>It’s all true. And it shouldn’t make Anakin angry that they speak the truth. It shouldn’t, but it does. Because he knows this: deep down, under the false sympathy, under the fake concern, under the open hate and contempt, they are all just <em>jealous</em>. They all want to take his place – to always walk one step behind Obi-Wan Kenobi’s shoulder, following him wherever he goes; to be trained by him, skilled and talented Master; to be friends with him, young and beautiful Jedi; to be the ones in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s arms when they are needy, and hysterical, and a total emotional mess. They all want to be <em>him</em> – the useless boy, the walking disaster of a Padawan, the Sith spawn. They all want to be <em>Anakin Skywalker</em>.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The Padawans he is training with today are, of course, no match for him. Anakin feels so bored he wishes he could simply lower his lightsaber and let one of those poor clumsy bastards just stab him to death already. But his Master is watching. Sitting in an armchair at the far end of the Training Hall, he is observing him carefully, simultaneously talking to the other Masters and sipping his tea.</p><p>Anakin can’t quite see his face from such a distance, but he just <em>knows</em> his Master is watching him. His assessing gaze feels scalding hot on Anakin’s skin under his robes. His cheeks are aflame.</p><p>Is his Master displeased that he has slipped from the mainly defensive Soresu Form into the more aggressive Djem So?</p><p>Anakin swears under his breath. He didn’t mean to upset his Master. He just wanted this hideous and seemingly <em>endless</em> training session to finally be over so that his Master would take him back to their quarters, where there would be no one else but them, where it would be calm, and peaceful, and quiet. Also, he is planning to prepare something special for dinner tonight just to impress his Master, who seems to think cooking is something akin to ancient magic.</p><p>Just a few more strikes and…yep, that’s it.</p><p>Anakin powers his lightsaber down and steps back from his feckless opponents now lying on the ground and clutching at the burns on various parts of their bodies.</p><p>Anakin has already turned to walk away, to where his Master is waiting for him with the usual gracious smile on his lips, when…</p><p>“Most impressive, Skywalker,” a completely unimpressed female voice states from behind his back.</p><p><em>Blast</em>.</p><p>Anakin turns slowly, trying to school his features into a less murderous expression as he does so.</p><p>“Barriss Offee.” A yellow-skinned Mirialan girl dressed in all black, just like Anakin himself, offers him her hand.</p><p>Anakin doesn’t take it. Instead he folds his arms on his chest and sneers.</p><p>“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, Barriss Offee, but it’s not. I don’t have time for yet another portion of taunts and insults today. Perhaps some other time.”</p><p>He is already turning to walk away again when the girl’s hand catches his lower arm.</p><p>“How about a duel then?”</p><p>Anakin freezes in his tracks.</p><p>
  <em>How dare she touch him in front of his Master!</em>
</p><p>He has to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath to calm himself enough to <em>not</em> break this cheeky girl’s wrist as he shakes her palm off in disgust, desperately hoping that Master didn’t think he welcomed the touch in any way.</p><p>“Why would I want a duel with you?” He gives the girl a once-over. <em>Nothing special.</em></p><p>“Because we are not that different, you and I,” she answers him with a lopsided grin and a meaningful look in her eyes.</p><p>Anakin snorts.</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he grits through his teeth.</p><p>It is obvious that it isn’t the reaction Barriss Offee was expecting. Her eyebrows knit together, and she looks lost and puzzled for a moment, but then she keeps pressing anyway.</p><p>“Your Master is watching.” She tips her head at the observation platform with another meaningful grin and an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. “I’m sure this would <em>please</em> him.”</p><p>“And I am sure you don’t know <em>the first thing</em> about pleasing my Master.” Anakin snarls, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flaring in anger, as his lightsaber ignites with a snap-hiss.</p><p>The girl smirks smugly.</p><p>“And <em>you</em> are said to know <em>all about it</em>, pretty boy.”</p><p>Two blades of blue light clash against each other with an angry crackle.</p><p>There is nothing graceful or even dignified about their fight. Just rage, pure and simple.</p><p>The girl is good, much better than Anakin’s previous unlucky opponents. She counters Anakin’s aggressive attack with equal force and even manages to strike a couple of her own blows.</p><p>She bares her teeth when Anakin easily deflects her attack.</p><p>“Wow! You really are as good as they say.” Barriss gives him an impressed look. “No wonder. Always training, never having any fun.”</p><p>She jumps over Anakin’s blade aimed at her knees.</p><p>“Master Kenobi pushes you too hard, doesn’t he?”</p><p>Anakin doesn’t answer that: he knows she is just trying to rile him up and throw him off his game.</p><p>Does she really think she can get a reaction from him just by insinuating that his Master is too strict with him? Anakin wants to laugh.</p><p>Barriss must realize her mistake from the look of annoyed amusement on Anakin’s face when he advances on her with a series of short lunges, because she instantly changes her tactics.</p><p>“Or is it the other way around?” her eyes glint with self-satisfaction when she guessed she is on to something. “Is it <em>your</em> <em>fault</em> that poor Master Kenobi has had no life ever since he ended up with a Padawan?”</p><p>The force of Anakin’s next attack makes Barriss yelp and stagger back, but, sadly, it doesn’t make her <em>shut the kark up.</em></p><p>“What a waste!” she exclaims, shaking her head in fake disappointment, while landing blow after blow onto Anakin’s hissing lightsaber. “The youngest, <em>hottest</em> Master in the entire Temple is forced to spend his evenings babysitting his moody, sulky Padawan, unable to even go out to a cantina…”</p><p>
  <em>Cantina.</em>
</p><p>The word triggers something in Anakin’s head, and his memory starts to flash back to his younger years in a sickening kaleidoscope of flickering lights and images.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Back when Anakin was fourteen, his Master and he used to be sent on a lot of “relatively safer” local missions here on the lower levels of Coruscant. Most of those missions entailed dealing with smugglers, bounty hunters and other scum of society. Most of said scum tended to frequent Coruscant’s various cantinas.</p><p>But it wasn’t the vile customers, or the salacious dancers, or even the loathsome smell of those establishments that made Anakin sick to his stomach every time they went inside – it was the way the clientele<em>, </em>both male and female, reacted to his Master.</p><p>The meaningful looks they gave him while he walked to the bar.</p><p>“Hey, Jedi! Want me to polish your <em>lightsaber</em>?”</p><p>The obscene comments they made as they offered to buy him drinks.</p><p>“Now I get why they call you Masters. I wouldn’t mind calling you <em>Master</em> myself.”</p><p>The smutty jokes they made as they slid their hands up and down his thighs in a suggestive manner.</p><p>“Is your body a <em>Temple</em>? ‘Cause it makes me want to kneel and worship it.”</p><p>The lewd propositions they whispered into his ear as they shamelessly pressed themselves against him.</p><p>“Do you want to <em>force</em> yourself on me?”</p><p>The wanton moans they let out as they tried to sit on his lap with a very explicit intention.</p><p>“I’ll ride you right here. Just give me the <em>order</em>.”</p><p>But the worst of it – terrible puns aside – the worst of it all, was that Master <em>let</em> them.</p><p>As if they had the right to stare at him as hungrily as they did. As if they didn’t offend him with their open craving. As if their desire to pleasure and worship him was only natural.</p><p>Anakin wanted to <em>murder them all</em> – to choke, and cut, and stab until he was the only one left. The only one with the right to stare, and crave, and pleasure, and worship his beloved Master.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The visions of blood, and gore, and distorted, broken bodies are clouding his eyes with crimson haze.</p><p>The girl in front of him yields and shrinks back under the sudden vicious battering.</p><p>“Hey, <em>chill!</em>” she tries to caution, terror overtaking her face completely at the onslaught. “You’re gonna kill me!”</p><p>“I won’t,” Anakin promises with a terrifying smile, his eyes blazing frantically. “<em>Master is watching.</em>”</p><p>In the next moment, Barriss Offee screams, reels back and falls to the ground after a heavy blow landed unexpectedly on her upper arm, ripping a deep, nasty gash in her flesh.</p><p>“Mercy! Please!” she begs, having dropped her lightsaber and raising her hand in a futile attempt to shield herself from the next attack. The look of sheer horror on her face indicates that she doesn’t really expect Anakin to stop.</p><p>Anakin freezes above her, with his blade raised for the final, fatal blow.</p><p>“Now you know what happens when someone tries to stand in my way to my Master.” Anakin smirks as he spreads his arms in a dramatic way, his blade still alight. “Next time there will be <em>no mercy</em>.”</p><p>The Mirialan girl is staring up at him, shocked and paralyzed with fear.</p><p>“It’s true what they say,” she whispers, barely audibly, completely stunned with her sudden revelation. “You are no Jedi.”</p><p>Anakin sighs, closing his eyes for a second.</p><p>The girl is right: he only stays at the Temple because of his Master. Because he knows his Master would never leave the Order, especially not for<em> him</em> of all people. He would never even ask that of him, of course. He is the perfect Jedi – a proud symbol of the Order’s power and purity – and Anakin cannot see him as anything else, has never wanted to change him. He himself, though… He feels like clay: pliable, just waiting to be shaped by his Master in any way he wants, willing to bend at all the wrong angles just to please him.</p><p>
  <em>You are no Jedi, Anakin Skywalker.</em>
</p><p>Anakin turns off his lightsaber and takes a step back from the defeated girl on the ground.</p><p>“I am what my Master wants me to be.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Extraordinary!”</p><p>Anakin laughs, blushing despite himself.</p><p>“Stop it, Master! You always make it sound like it’s some kind of <em>sacred knowledge</em>. It’s just cooking. You could do it too if you tried, you know?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t <em>dare!</em>” The Jedi presses his hand to his chest in an exaggerated show of reverential respect.</p><p>Anakin snorts. “Of course, you wouldn’t, Master. If it wasn’t for me, you would just starve to death.”</p><p>Anakin’s smile suddenly fades.</p><p>“Or you could, you know,” he waves his hand vaguely, “go eat out at a cantina.”</p><p>“Eat out at a cantina?!” his Master exclaims in surprised amusement. “Why would I ever do that?”</p><p>“I dunno.” Anakin lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, all his pose meant to appear nonchalant, but the now empty plate he is picking up from the table cracks in his grip. “I just thought you might wanna go out and…have some fun. I mean, you shouldn’t stay home on my account – I’m a big boy now, Master.”</p><p>“Are you though?” his Master raises an eyebrow and stares at Anakin with suspicion.</p><p>Anakin rolls his eyes in an overly dramatic gesture.</p><p>“I<em> am</em>, Master!”</p><p>“Good.” The Jedi smirks as he moves from the kitchenette to sit in his armchair. “Then pour me some of that Twi’lek liquor from the left-hand cabinet. It’s been a long day.”</p><p>“Of course, Master.” Anakin hurries to turn away so that his Master wouldn’t see his stupid smile.</p><p>He pours the liquor generously, too generously even, as if he wanted to get his Master drunk. But, of course, he doesn’t. That would be <em>ridiculous</em>…</p><p>Anakin comes to stand behind his Master’s chair and offers him his drink.</p><p>“Now you see?” Master chuckles as he takes the tumbler. “Why would I ever want to go to a cantina and pay some strangers for bringing me food and drinks if I have a perfectly good Padawan for that at home?”</p><p>Anakin bows his head, trying to cover up with a chuckle just how <em>relieved</em> he really feels at that moment.</p><p><em>Thank the Force! </em>His Master doesn’t want to go to some sleazy bar. His Master wants to stay home <em>with him!</em></p><p> </p><p>Anakin moves back to the kitchenette to wash the dishes. It takes some time, longer than usual, because his hands are still shaking a little with all the residual adrenaline. So when he is finally finished with his task and returns to his Master’s chair, he is pleasantly surprised to see that the tumbler in his Master’s hand is already empty and the man’s head is tipped back against the headrest in a completely relaxed position.</p><p>The Twi’lek liquor must be really strong then, huh?</p><p>Anakin plucks the tumbler from his Master’s loose grip and puts it on the counter. He almost <em>purrs</em> as he kneels behind the armchair and puts his hands on his Master’s shoulders.</p><p>Master doesn’t even open his eyes, and a contented<em> mhm</em>, is the only thing he utters when Anakin starts to knead his tense muscles.</p><p>“You need to relax, Master,” he murmurs softly against the man’s ear, sending a wave of warmth through their Bond to wash over his tired body. “Let me take care of you.”</p><p>His Master’s fingers grip the armrests as he throws his head further back with a surprised gasp and a groan of pleasure when Anakin’s fingers dig into the knots in his shoulders.</p><p>Anakin stares – eyes dark and desperate – at his Master’s bared neck and has to use all of his willpower to stop himself from coming in his pants right there and then.</p><p><em>Force</em>, he is so kriffing horny! He is virtually shaking with how badly he wants – needs – to graze his nose against the pale column of his Master’s throat, to press a hot, wet kiss to it, to feel the pulse <em>beat-beat-beat </em>under his lips.</p><p>What if he leaned down right now, just a little?</p><p>What if he pressed his nose into the crook of his Master’s neck and breathed in?</p><p>What if he…</p><p> </p><p>A mechanical beep breaks Anakin’s almost hypnotic state and makes him jump to his feet with a start.</p><p>He shrinks back from the chair as if he’d burned himself. His heart is racing like crazy, pumping blood against his eardrums with such violence that he almost misses his Master’s words.</p><p>“Will you answer the door, Ani?” he murmurs, looking up at him, bleary-eyed and uncharacteristically disheveled, before throwing his head back onto the headrest.</p><p>Anakin mumbles a string of Huttese curses under his breath, staggering towards the door.</p><p>He shouldn’t have let his Master drink so much.</p><p>He shouldn’t have touched him while he was like that.</p><p>He shouldn’t desire him so much that he almost…</p><p>The door slides to the side, revealing a green-skinned Mirialan woman.</p><p><em>Not again</em>... Anakin lets out a long-suffering sigh.</p><p>“I am Master Luminara Unduli,” the woman introduces herself, eyeing Anakin with open contempt. “I’m here to speak with Master Kenobi.”</p><p>“Master is indisposed, I’m afraid.” Anakin forces a smile, throwing a discreet glance back to where his Master is sprawled out in his comfortable armchair with a blissful smile of a drunk man. “Come back another time.”</p><p>
  <em>Or don’t.</em>
</p><p>Anakin is already reaching for the control panel to shut the door in front of her when Master Unduli rather unceremoniously pushes him aside and steps into the sitting area.</p><p>“Obi-Wan, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent,” she announces, making the Jedi jerk awake and sit bolt upright.</p><p>“Wha–” he croaks, rubbing his eyes. “What is it?”</p><p>He has a lost expression on his face when he looks up at his Padawan.</p><p>The usual need to protect him hits Anakin harder than ever before. The Force buzzes around him, charged and ready for a strike. Master Unduli seems completely unaware of that fact though because she just ignores Anakin and sits down in the armchair in front of Obi-Wan.</p><p>His eyes never leaving her wrapped in black figure, Anakin moves to stand behind his Master’s chair, slightly to the left, in his usual place. A silent sign of protection.</p><p>Rough and formidable – in a sharp contrast to his gentle and graceful Master – he never fails to make a rather intimidating impression. Master Unduli is not an exception: she looks up at his towering, dark figure and shifts uncomfortably in her chair.</p><p>“Leave us, Padawan,” she demands in a voice that leaves no room for objections.</p><p>
  <em>Really?</em>
</p><p>Anakin’s eyebrow creeps up in amusement.</p><p>
  <em>Who does she think she is to tell him what to do?</em>
</p><p>“No,” he states with a challenge in his voice.</p><p>He puts his hand on his Master’s shoulder.</p><p>
  <em>I’m here, Master. I’m not leaving you.</em>
</p><p>His dark aura rushes forward to wrap around the perplexed Jedi like an impenetrable armor.</p><p>“How dare you!” Master Unduli snarls, affronted; her nose crinkles in contempt. “You are an apprentice! You must obey Masters!”</p><p>Anakin stares her dead in the eyes, his expression darkening with rage.</p><p>“I only obey <em>my </em>Master.”</p><p>Master Unduli gapes at him as if he had just sprouted a second head.</p><p>“See, <em>this</em>,” she points her accusing finger at Anakin, “this is <em>exactly</em> what I’ve come to talk to you about, Obi-Wan.”</p><p>Master grimaces and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation.</p><p>“Luminara, if this could possibly wait. I’m not in any condi–”</p><p>“No, this cannot wait!” the woman cuts him off.</p><p>“Your–” she pauses, evidently looking for less abusive words. “That <em>uncivilized, arrogant brat</em> of yours almost killed my Padawan during practice today!”</p><p>“Ugh,” Obi-Wan sighs tiredly and holds up his hand in a peaceable manner as he assures, slurring only slightly. “He would never kill another Padawan.”</p><p>“Would you, Ani?” He cranes his head to look at Anakin, reaching up with his left hand, silently asking his apprentice to lean down to him.</p><p>A sudden wave of arousal washes over Anakin at the <em>intimacy</em> of the endearment accidentally slipping from his Master’s tongue in another person’s presence.</p><p>“Of course not, Master,” he reassures with a tender, affectionate smile, bending down slightly. He catches his Master’s hand in his own and in a sudden fit of imprudence presses his lips to his knuckles. “Not unless you give the order.”</p><p>His Master’s eyes – now dark blue with drowsiness – crinkle at the corners with fondness as he looks up at his apprentice through his drunken haze.</p><p>“See, your Padawan is completely safe,” he reassures Master Unduli, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back onto the headrest.</p><p>He doesn’t even seem to have noticed Luminara’s outraged expression.</p><p>She jumps to her feet, disgusted and furious, and yells into Anakin’s face, with no trace of her much-vaunted Jedi serenity:</p><p>“You savage little Sith spawn! I haven’t alerted the Council yet <em>purely</em> out of respect to your Master. But if you don’t stay away from my Padawan, I–”</p><p>Obi-Wan jumps to his feet and positions himself strategically between Master Unduli and Anakin so swiftly as though he had never been drunk in the first place.</p><p>He must have meditated his intoxication away, Anakin muses absently, because when he speaks to Master Unduli, his voice is absolutely clear, with no trace of alcohol, but instead laced with warning:</p><p>“Don’t raise your voice at him.”</p><p>Air gets stuck in Anakin’s throat at how unexpectedly dark and dangerous those words have sounded.</p><p>Anakin can’t see his Master’s expression, but Luminara Unduli must have noticed something in it, because she staggers back from her fellow Jedi as if slapped across the face.</p><p>“For all your famed wisdom, Obi-Wan, you are blissfully ignorant when it comes to him.” She shakes her head, an expression of pity on her face. “You may be a star, but he is your eclipse. You are walking blindly in the Dark because the Dark is walking with you. And you <em>let</em> him.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin has always tried his best not to embarrass his Master by being too clingy in front of other people, but as soon as the door of their shared quarters hissed shut behind Master Unduli, he throws himself around his Master’s neck, sinking into the Light of his halo, feeling it wrapping all around him like an embrace, enveloping him whole in warm, soothing fuzziness.</p><p>Anakin draws in a long breath and exhales shakily. He is on edge, he knows it. He can feel it – that surge of anxiety looming close.</p><p>“<em>Master…</em>” he whimpers.</p><p>“Shhh, sweetheart,” his Master’s soft voice coos somewhere into his temple, his hand stroking up and down his nape in a calming gesture. “You’ve done so well. I am so proud of you.”</p><p>“But– But–” Anakin starts sobbing in spite of the praise. “It’s true. I wanted to– to kill that girl of hers, Master. I– I almost– almost did. You must h-have seen.”</p><p>“But you <em>didn’t</em>, did you?” Master puts his hands onto Anakin’s shoulders and pushes him back a little to look him in the eyes. “Something made you stop, yes?”</p><p>His head lowered in shame, Anakin swallows thickly and nods.</p><p>“<em>You</em> did, Master.” Anakin’s voice is barely audible. “I just didn’t want to…<em>upset</em> you.”</p><p>“Are you sure there wasn’t anything else, dear one?” his Master inquires carefully, his voice level but his eyes betraying his hopeful anticipation.</p><p>When Anakin doesn’t answer, the Jedi prompts gingerly, “Didn’t you feel remorse? Or compassion?”</p><p>And Anakin knows it’s not what his Master wants to hear, but it is the truth, so he shakes his head. “No, Master.”</p><p>The Jedi looks at him in silence for a long moment. Then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.</p><p>Anakin knows his Master is probably searching for his last scraps of patience, and for a second there, Anakin fears that he isn’t going to find any. But when the Jedi opens his eyes again, his gaze is as soft and indulgent as ever.</p><p>“It’s okay, Anakin,” he reassures, looking outwardly serene, his emotions carefully locked away behind his shields. “If your reason is enough to stop you from doing bad things, then it’s good enough for me too.”</p><p>“But, Master…” Anakin frowns in confusion. “Why didn’t I feel those things you said?”</p><p>“I don’t know, dear one.” His Master reaches out to stroke his cheek affectionately. “What do you normally feel when you look at other people?”</p><p>“I don’t feel anything, Master,” Anakin whispers, melting into the touch. “They are inconsequential. They don’t matter. They don’t exist, unless…”</p><p>“Unless?” his Master prompts again, his inquisitive gaze raking over Anakin’s face, as if hoping to find something.</p><p>“Unless they come close to you. Or speak to you. Or… Or look at you, Master.” Anakin covers his Master’s hand on his cheek with his own and turns his head to press his lips to the soft palm.</p><p>His Master closes his eyes and slowly shakes his head, his lips curved into a fond smile – the expression Anakin knows so well.</p><p>
  <em>What do I do with you, my incorrigible Padawan?</em>
</p><p>It never fails to make Anakin weak at the knees.</p><p>“And when they…look at me,” Master keeps inquiring carefully, taking his hand away from Anakin and stepping back, to examine his apprentice with undisguised curiosity, “How does that make you feel, Ani?”</p><p>“Furious,” Anakin blurts out immediately, his eyes flashing with rage for a second. “Protective.”</p><p>
  <em>Jealous.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Possessive.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murderous!</em>
</p><p>Anakin wants to continue, but stops himself at the very last moment, when the terrible words are almost ready to fall off his lips, and just hangs his head instead, taking rapid deep breaths and clenching and unclenching his fists in a futile attempt to calm down.</p><p><em>How dare they look at his Master? They should all be kneeling in front of him with eyes downcast in deference. One day he will </em>make<em> them. He would have already if only his Master–</em></p><p>His Master doesn’t say anything. He looks completely unimpressed by Anakin’s sudden outburst. He folds his arms and moves to stand in front of the window, half-turned to Anakin, but not looking at him, deep in thought.</p><p>His silhouette, dark and sharply defined, stands out against the scarlet background of the setting sun. It wraps around him like a royal mantle, and Anakin feels the so very familiar urge to kneel.</p><p>It suddenly occurs to him that even if everyone is right, if he really is a Sith… Well, the liquid gold of his eyes would match his Master’s golden crown of hair just <em>so perfectly</em>.</p><p>What a strange thought. A dangerous, <em>blasphemous </em>thought…</p><p>“Master…” His voice cracks. “Is it true what they say? Am I– Am I a Sith?”</p><p> </p><p>As if in slow motion, Anakin watches his Master turn to him with a strange, unreadable expression.</p><p>Anakin’s breath gets stuck in his throat as he awaits the dreaded verdict. He wants to squeeze his eyes shut, but he doesn’t dare, and so he keeps staring at his Master, his gaze worried and pleading.</p><p>“<em>You</em> tell me, my dear apprentice,” his Master asks acidly, his eyebrow raised. “<em>Are</em> you a Sith? Am I your Sith Lord? Do I embody the power of the Dark Side and do you crave it?”</p><p>“I– You– <em>No!</em> But–” Anakin stutters out, completely bewildered, his thoughts in utter disarray.</p><p>His Master gives him a wry look and another arched eyebrow.</p><p>“But, Master, you… Whatever it is that you embody, I–” Anakin bows his head to hide his flaming cheeks. “I do crave it.”</p><p>“Anakin–” his Master begins, his tone long-suffering, and tired, and disappointed, but Anakin doesn’t let him finish.</p><p>“No, I <em>do</em>, Master! You <em>know</em> I do! That’s why you let me always be by your side. You know I can barely function without you. I will have a disastrous meltdown if I don’t stand in the Light of your halo…”</p><p>His Master shakes his head in mild exasperation. He takes a deep breath, as if searching for patience. “Anakin, you are just being dramatic again and–”</p><p>“Why can’t you just admit it?” Anakin interrupts, bitter tears starting to well up in his eyes. “I’m not a child anymore! You can’t just keep pretending that I am okay. I am a <em>kriffing mess</em>, Master! And I know what everyone says. How– How you had to give up your life and career to <em>babysit</em> me. How I’m a burden to you. A time-bomb. A–”</p><p>“<em>Enough!</em>”</p><p>His Master’s only slightly raised voice strikes Anakin like a blow. He gasps, his eyes going huge with the realization that he must have crossed the line somewhere along his angry tirade. </p><p>“Master, I’m sorry<em>.</em> I–” he sputters gingerly.</p><p>“You are not a Sith, but you definitely are a<em> fool, </em>my Padawan.” It is obvious that it’s taking his Master a lot of effort to remain calm and not to shout at him. “Why are you so ready to listen to those people – those <em>‘inconsequential’</em> people – saying that you are a burden I had to take on, when you were actually <em>there</em> when I <em>all but</em> <em>begged</em> the Council to give you to me?”</p><p>“Master…” Anakin’s eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, but he still struggles to believe it. “But I– I’m not worthy of you. You deserve so much better! I’m just a waste of your time…”</p><p>The words are bitter on his tongue the way the truth always is: despite all his power, despite all the efforts his Master has put into him, he remains entirely <em>helpless</em> all the same. A broken toy soldier.</p><p>“I will never be someone you could be proud of, Master,” Anakin insists, quickly wiping away the stinging tears in his eyes. “I’m not the Jedi I should be.”</p><p>“Then be <em>whatever the kriff</em> you want to be, Anakin!” His Master’s shoulders suddenly sag; he looks deeply hurt. “Just– just don’t be <em>stupid</em>, thinking you are here because you are the Chosen One or because the Council imposed you on me. You are here because <em>you</em> asked me to <em>take you home with me</em>. And I did. And I haven’t regretted it since. You <em>belong</em> here, <em>with me</em>, no matter what you are or want to be.”</p><p>“<em>Master</em>…” Anakin feels dizzy, and delirious, and hysterical all at once. “Master, I was such an idiot! I thought– Please, don’t be<em> angry</em> with me! Please! You know I can’t take it, Master!”</p><p>Anakin’s throat restricts in panic as his hands start to shake. His mind feels like it is shaking too. Or is it the walls?</p><p>Little objects start flying around the room, caught in the whirlwind of his distress, crashing into the walls all around them, breaking and shattering into pieces.</p><p>
  <em>Master is disappointed in him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Master is disappointed in him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Master is disappointed in him.</em>
</p><p>His mind is stuck, completely unable to move past that thought, that terrible realization.</p><p>He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He can’t– He can’t–</p><p>Anakin is on edge, Force bursting through him, unrestrained and ready to explode. And all his Master has to do is…slide his hand up his nape and rake his fingers through his hair, grabbing a fistful of his curls for just a fleeting second before he lets go.</p><p>Anakin crumples to the ground, collapses to his knees with a strangled whine as if Master has taken out his battery.</p><p>“There you go, sweetheart,” his Master’s soft voice coos above him as the man steps closer to slide his hand into Anakin’s hair again and pull his head to rest under his solar plexus.</p><p>Anakin’s lungs almost burst from how much air he tries to draw into them, inhaling his Master’s scent as he buries his face into the folds of his Jedi robes.</p><p>His knuckles go white from how desperately his fingers are clutching at the coarse garment.</p><p>His chest is heaving with sobs while he trembles under his Master’s hand stroking up and down the back of his neck and massaging his scalp with soothing touches.</p><p>He has never felt so balanced and hysterical all at once. He has never felt so overwhelmingly desperate. He has never felt so good. <em>So kriffing good</em>.</p><p>“Master. Master. Master…” the litany falls from his lips, unhindered and unrestrained, only slightly muffled by the fabric of the Jedi’s tabards where Anakin’s nose and mouth are pressed into it.</p><p>Each word he breathes out is hot and wet against his lips, the linen is rough under his flaming cheeks, and the hand tightening in his hair is just <em>divine</em>.</p><p>Anakin wants to stay like this forever: on his knees for his Master while he cradles him and murmurs, murmurs absentmindedly, as if on autopilot after doing it hundreds and hundreds of times, “Shh, my sweet little boy. You are okay. You are safe, Ani, my dear. Shh.”</p><p>He wants to be that sweet little boy forever. He wants to be his Master’s <em>dear Ani</em>. He wants to be so many, many things! He wants to be his Master’s <em>everything</em>…</p><p>But no matter what Master said – <em>Be whatever the kriff you want to be, Anakin!</em> – he knows he can’t be. Not now. Not ever.</p><p>So if he can’t be everything, perhaps he could just be what his Master needs – what he has raised him to be? A <em>soldier.</em> His Master’s guard and enforcer. The one who will follow him into battle. The one who will stand in the shadows with an arm draped around the back of his throne one day. Yes. Yes, <em>that</em> he can be.</p><p>And Anakin whispers the words that got stuck in his head years ago, whispers them deliriously, fervently, like a vow:</p><p>“Master, if I can be anything, I want to be the flaming sword you wield.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N 1:</p><p>Yes, I made Barriss Offee Anakin’s peer for no reason whatsoever. I hope you don’t mind:)</p><p> </p><p>A/N 2:</p><p>My inspiration pics for this chapter:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://64.media.tumblr.com/a4fdabacb6f22c38f276e25a13f94061/tumblr_onr53iCIYv1sy4sxgo2_1280.jpg">https://64.media.tumblr.com/a4fdabacb6f22c38f276e25a13f94061/tumblr_onr53iCIYv1sy4sxgo2_1280.jpg</a></p><p> </p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Look what you made of me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Master… Am I a Sith?”</em>
</p><p>Are you, Anakin?</p><p>Back then, nine years ago, on the cliff of obsidian, the Daughter warned Obi-Wan about what Anakin might become. And Obi-Wan has been expecting the oncoming storm ever since.</p><p>But month passed after month, year after year. Nothing has happened. Anakin Skywalker is an annoying little brat, for sure, but not a Sith.</p><p><em>Not yet</em>, a nasty little voice in Obi-Wan’s head keeps whispering. <em>How long before he slips?</em></p><p>Nine years. It would be enough time to dull anyone’s caution, but not Obi-Wan’s. He can sense the Dark presence gathering around his Padawan, and today’s dueling disaster is only a case in point.</p><p>Anakin is not a little boy anymore, but he is still balancing on the very edge of the Dark, and sometimes it seems to Obi-Wan that the only reason he hasn’t fallen into it yet, is because, even at eighteen, he is too clingy to let go of Obi-Wan’s hand.</p><p>Always following one step behind.</p><p>Always watching with greedy eyes.</p><p>Always demanding undivided attention.</p><p>
  <em>Teach me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Spar with me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Meditate with me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Talk to me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eat with me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hold me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pacify me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fly with me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Save me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Heal me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t leave me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mastermastermaster.</em>
</p><p>Even nine years later.</p><p>Not a single moment of peace…</p><p>Oh well, he is used to it by now. He can handle his Padawan. The Negotiator – they say he has a magic way with words. He does. He knows the secret: words are important. They give names to things. They make things <em>real</em>. And Obi-Wan gives Anakin a lot of names, shaping him into anything he chooses.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Manipulative.</em>
</p><p>And absolutely shameless at that.</p><p>
  <em>Come to me! Stand beside me!</em>
</p><p>His voice is always there with Obi-Wan. It won’t leave his head. The boy has never stopped calling for him in the Force, pleading and coaxing him to come closer. He thinks he can manipulate Obi-Wan, the poor naïve child. You don’t manipulate <em>the</em> <em>master manipulator</em>.</p><p>Or maybe you do. Because Obi-Wan keeps coming, even though he knows he is being influenced by his Padawan.</p><p>
  <em>“Master, I couldn’t sleep.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve had a bad dream.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m scared, Master.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m cold.”</em>
</p><p>From the very beginning, the boy started coming up with those excuses to be allowed to sleep in Obi-Wan’s bed instead of his own. And Obi-Wan knew, <em>of course he knew,</em> that it was all just a ploy to receive sympathy and consolation Anakin had never had before as a slave, so Obi-Wan never questioned or reprimanded him for his little deception. He didn’t even mention it to his Padawan until he turned eleven and it was all getting a little weird.</p><p>Obi-Wan decided then that it was high time for him to finally put some appropriate distance between himself and his clingy Padawan. Anakin didn’t take it well though. Not at all.</p><p>And then… Then Obi-Wan started to come home late after the Council meetings only to find his bed still warm. The boy obviously took to sleeping in it while Obi-Wan was away.</p><p>Disturbing as it was, Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to tell the achingly lonely child to stop seeking comfort in that strange way of his.</p><p>And maybe that is why even <em>now</em>, seven years later, his Padawan still sometimes pretends to be distressed or acts out solely to get his attention.</p><p>It isn’t healthy at all. Obi-Wan <em>knows</em> that. But he comes to “save” him anyway. Because ever since he heard that voice for the very first time – the voice that was beckoning him from across the entire Galaxy – Obi-Wan has felt like it is calling him to come <em>home</em>.</p><p>Besides, what’s wrong with wanting comfort and attention? It is not all that uncommon, after all, is it? People do that. Not the Jedi, of course, but <em>people</em>, and the whole concept is not…<em>entirely</em> <em>alien</em> to Obi-Wan either. He gets it. Mostly.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Spoiled.</em>
</p><p>Oh well, perhaps he did pamper his Padawan too much after all. He was needy, and clingy, and entirely too attached to begin with, but the way Obi-Wan coddled him – oh, it only made those inherent weaknesses flourish and thrive. And instead of trying to fight them, Obi-Wan may have…<em>encouraged</em> them, allowing them to grow into monstrous, <em>disastrous</em> things.</p><p>At eleven, he shouldn’t have promised the touch-starved Anakin an infinity of his comforting hugs.</p><p>At twelve, he shouldn’t have started calling him those sweet little pet names Anakin was so desperate to hear he actually <em>begged</em> for them.</p><p>At thirteen, he shouldn’t have tried to relieve Anakin’s acute separation anxiety to the point where it turned into possessiveness, that ruthless desire to grab Obi-Wan and hold him, never letting go, keeping him forever and ever, all to himself.</p><p>At sixteen, he shouldn’t have let the black hole of his apprentice’s tainted Force presence attach itself to him like a greedy, tenacious leech sucking his starlight out of him.</p><p>Come to think of it, he shouldn’t have done many, many things. Shouldn’t have let compassion lead his way. But he did. Because, according to the Code, compassion – <em>unconditional loving kindness</em> – is supposed to be essential to a Jedi’s life, and Obi-Wan has indulged his constantly distressed Padawan with every attention, comfort and affection he could possibly lavish on him.</p><p>It has earned them thousands of funny and disapproving stares from other Jedi over the years, but Obi-Wan doesn’t care because he knows that his affectionate words and gestures are the only thing keeping Anakin’s demons at bay. He knows his Padawan feels like he is drowning in the sea of blackness every time when he is not close to him, and every touch they share is an offered hand, pulling Anakin out of the dark waters.</p><p>Obi-Wan only consoles himself with the notion that he did what he thought was right at the time, but there is no point in denying that he had no idea how to navigate all those human emotions properly, them being so strange and not quite comprehensible for him as a detached, Temple-raised Jedi. Rather unsurprisingly, it all went sideways in the end. Of course, it did.</p><p>And so, even now, at eighteen (thanks to Obi-Wan’s utter lack of understanding of how to raise a child), Anakin Skywalker is completely immature and barely self-sufficient, petulant, and pouting, and throwing tantrums like a spoiled brat. He keeps thrashing against Obi-Wan’s shields, constantly overwhelming his defenses in desperate search for comfort and validation. He doesn’t leave Obi-Wan a single moment to himself. No, the greedy monster demands all of his time and attention. And for some inexplicable reason, it makes Obi-Wan shudder with guilty satisfaction to have his apprentice so entirely <em>dependent</em> on him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*****</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dramatic.</em>
</p><p>Anakin definitely has a flair for drama. He’s always had.</p><p>At fifteen, Anakin was a rebellious teenager. He defied everything and everyone in the entire universe. But the wall in his room screamed <em>OB1</em> with desperate, passive-aggressive adoration.</p><p><em>Look at me, Obi-Wan!</em> it called.</p><p>
  <em>I hate the whole world. Everyone, except you. Look! Look!</em>
</p><p>But passion is not the Jedi way, and Obi-Wan <em>forbade</em> himself to encourage or even acknowledge his Padawan’s youthful ardor, hoping that it would eventually go away with time like all teenage crushes do.</p><p>But Anakin didn’t like being ignored. He wasn’t even angry. He was <em>rage itself. </em>Frustration compressed into a human form. The Force around him was boiling and roiling with longing and desire, with that unbearable craving that he had to fight every second of his miserable existence. So, naturally, Obi-Wan took pity on him and decided to cut him some slack – allowed his stubborn, insolent, reckless Padawan to be as mouthy and disobedient as he wanted to be. But instead, Anakin chose to be a sobbing, hysterical mess entirely wrapped up in his emotions. And Obi-Wan allowed that too – let the boy be dramatic. Just because he didn’t want to put any extra pressure on him and not at all because Anakin looked <em>beautifully</em> <em>fragile</em> when he was crying.</p><p> </p><p> *****</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Unbalanced.</em>
</p><p>That’s what  people call his Padawan to his face.</p><p>
  <em>Twisted.</em>
</p><p>That’s what they call him behind his back.</p><p>Obi-Wan doesn’t mind it at all. After all, Anakin really <em>does </em>seem frantic, and volatile, and almost entirely unpredictable from where they stand. No wonder they are terrified of him – the one balancing on the very edge of Darkness, the one who brought his storm of passion into the complete serenity of the Jedi Temple.</p><p>But Obi-Wan is not like them. He isn’t afraid. He is fascinated<em> – mesmerized –</em> every time he watches his apprentice get enraged with someone at the smallest sign of a conflict: the way his eyes flash with dangerous fire; the way the Force flings around him in wild, erratic chaos; the way his entire body gets all taut, fighting the urge to attack.</p><p>Some think he is only held back by the Jedi Code, but Obi-Wan knows better: he knows that the only authority Anakin Skywalker recognizes is his Master’s. And Obi-Wan just <em>loves</em> to watch his furious, frenzied Padawan strain at the leash he is holding.</p><p><em>A guard dog. </em>Fierce with strangers but totally obedient to his Master. Pliant and submissive, totally surrendering and willingly vulnerable under his touch – that’s what Anakin thinks he wants to be. That’s what Obi-Wan trained him to be. Subtly. <em>Subtly</em>... As he wrecked him one gentle smile at a time.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*****</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Unworthy.</em>
</p><p>Undeserving of Obi-Wan’s radiant presence. That’s what Anakin thinks he is. Even after nine years of being his Padawan. Still.</p><p>And Obi-Wan does little to nothing to reassure him. Alluring and inviting in his gracious indulgence and merciful kindness, he still makes a point of remaining distant and unattainable for his Padawan, never initiating any contact himself and instead pushing Anakin to work hard for every scrap of his Master’s affection.</p><p>So close yet unreachable – nothing can fuel an obsession better. And it is, indeed<em>,</em> an obsession. There is no other word for Anakin’s awestruck, reverent adoration combined with the overzealous want to please his Master. And the jealousy… Oh, <em>that jealousy!</em> The dark, murderous possessiveness that clouds Anakin’s judgement when he suspects that someone else could take that last step to Obi-Wan – the one that separates him from his Master, the one he himself is <em>forbidden</em> to take. The Force buzzes around him with the need to protect what’s <em>his</em> from everyone and everything. And Obi-Wan lets him. Allows him to play his sulky, gloomy Jedi Guard, basking in the delicious, almost erotic sensuality of his insane overprotectiveness and absolute, solemn loyalty.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“For all your famed wisdom, Obi-Wan, you are blissfully ignorant when it comes to him,” Luminara Unduli told him.</p><p>It isn’t true, of course. He may <em>play</em> oblivious, but no one can see all the way through Anakin and look directly into his soul the way Obi-Wan does. And he doesn’t simply read his Padawan like an open book – he is the one who is <em>writing</em> it. <em>Word after word</em>. Raising his Padawan to be a warrior – just like any Master should. Shaping him into a weapon – just like a future Jedi Knight is supposed to be.</p><p>Unlike his fellow Jedi, Obi-Wan is not afraid of Anakin’s Darkness. He doesn’t try to eradicate it – instead, he <em>nurtures</em> and <em>cherishes</em> it, letting it walk with him, follow him like a lost puppy. Because he knows it isn’t just a part of Anakin – it is his <em>entire being</em>, and it is inevitable that Anakin is going to fall into the Darkness eventually. But Obi-Wan will be there to drag him out. Because he <em>can</em> now.</p><p>From the start, Anakin was destined to bring balance to the Force and, in a way, he already has: Obi-Wan has used his Darkness to learn how to balance on the edge between the Light and the Dark without falling in, how to subdue the Dark and bend and twist it in any way he desires.</p><p>Looking back, it wasn’t difficult at all. All Obi-Wan had to do was never try to contain or control Anakin – just step aside and let him spiral down into the abyss of his own emotions. And when he had already almost drowned in them, Obi-Wan would just grab him by his hair and pull him out of the dark depth of his misery back into the Light. And Anakin would grovel at his feet, on his hands and knees, coughing up the Darkness and <em>begging</em> for that control.</p><p>“He is not your flaming sword of righteousness,” Mace Windu once told him.</p><p>Oh, but he <em>is</em>. He is exactly what Obi-Wan forged him into, building up his unhealthy dependency, sometimes unwittingly, sometimes – on purpose.</p><p><em>A mere instrument in his hands.</em> Just like the Daughter predicted all those years ago.</p><p>Obi-Wan has tamed the fire. He has found that <em>right</em> word. And that sweet, delicious word to control Anakin Skywalker’s storm isn’t <em>power</em>.</p><p>It is<em> devotion</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Follow him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dangerous.</em>
</p><p>No one ever assumes him to be – all posh and exquisite and suave. They say he’d rather not fight. That’s true. He prefers being <em>subtly persuasive</em> instead. They think it’s because he isn’t strong enough. They think <em>wrong</em>. And that’s what makes him so lethal.</p><p>A master manipulator, he barely ever draws his lightsaber – his words cut sharply and with surgical precision in its place, accomplishing what even the use of the Force cannot. But if there ever is a need for <em>aggressive negotiations</em>, his Jedi cloak slides off his shoulders with dramatic and elegant carelessness, revealing the devastating warrior hidden underneath.</p><p>No one ever expects him to be. No one ever sees it coming until it’s too late. And that is their fatal mistake.</p><p>The Order calls him <em>the Negotiator</em>, and sometimes Anakin thinks that it must be some kind of sick, cruel Jedi joke, like calling a huge weapon of mass destruction <em>Little Boy</em>. He is the proverbial carrot and stick, both in one. Only the stick is more of a <em>scourge of gods</em> if you asked the receiving end of his wrath. And if you asked Anakin Skywalker, well, he <em>wouldn’t</em> tell you that, of course, but every time they go on a mission, he prays to the Force for their opponent to be <em>exceptionally</em> stubborn and almost trembles with excitement in hope that he might witness a show of his Master’s deadly grace.</p><p>It is an extremely rare occurrence, of course: Obi-Wan Kenobi is barely ever forced to fight – he prefers a more<em> civilized</em> approach. Not that he ever even <em>needs</em> to fight for that matter. Why would he? His faithful apprentice is always there – a dark, mournful shadow looming behind his left shoulder – always walking with him, a step behind; always ready to fight and kill to protect his Master. His devoted guardian, his loyal servant – Anakin Skywalker is the most dangerous thing about Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Majestic.</em>
</p><p>Words don’t come to Anakin as easily as they do to his Master, but this one… This one springs to mind every time – readily – at the sight of his Master.</p><p>The way he carries himself – his shoulders broad and square, his head held high and proud – it isn’t something he has ever consciously practiced. It is just his natural state of being effortlessly impressive and dignified but somehow <em>deliciously delicate</em> at the same time. It seems like everything about him just exudes dominance: he doesn’t just walk<em> –</em> he<em> swaggers, </em>confident and graceful, holding his body upright and swinging his hips; his look is sharp and commanding; his gestures are imperious; his posture is authoritative in the way that makes Senators and kings bow and hunch to appear smaller. They do it unwittingly, of course, they can’t see what Anakin sees: Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi strolls, blazing in glory and splendor, awash in the radiant current of the Force, its tendrils swirling and fluttering around him like war banners of a triumphant army.</p><p><em>Behold, </em>his very presence calls, <em>the Emperor in all his regal magnificence!</em></p><p>And Anakin can’t tear his gaze away. His eyes follow his Master’s every move, every step, every gesture with greedy, rapt attention.</p><p>His Master’s breath fills Anakin’s lungs.</p><p>His Master’s Light fills Anakin’s soul.</p><p>No matter how strong with the Force and powerful they say he is, Anakin has always been weak and helpless under his Master’s gaze, trembling at the sound of his own name spoken by his Master in that soft, gracious tone he reserves solely for him.</p><p>One word – and his Master could make Anakin do <em>anything</em>. That control is both terrifying and intoxicating, and somehow, Anakin feels unable to resist.</p><p>His nights are full of whispers – fervent whispers in his ear, making him come apart, pushing him over the edge with just his Master’s voice alone. Telling him the <em>filthiest</em> things in that rich, silky tone of his.</p><p>“Look at you, dear one.” His Master’s gentle cadence washes hotly against the shell of his ear. “So hard and wet for me. So <em>deliciously</em> <em>desperate</em>. You look like one of those sluts who come to the Temple every day, begging to be fucked full until they carry Jedi babies.”</p><p>Anakin mewls pathetically, clenching his fists into his sheets, throwing his head back in abandon, closing his eyes tighter, <em>tighter</em> because he knows that if he opens them…his Master won’t be there. Won’t be leaning over him, covering his body with his own. Won’t be whispering against his neck. Won’t be <em>real</em>.</p><p>“I know what my voice does to you, Ani…”</p><p>That voice…That voice is always enough. In his dreams, Master never even touches him – there is simply no need. He just <em>talks</em> him into an orgasm, his words vibrating a hairbreadth away from Anakin’s skin as he whispers them fervently against his throat, murmurs them against his chest, breathes them into his ears…</p><p>It is hell.</p><p>It is heaven.</p><p>And Anakin comes, choking on his sobs, swallowing his tears, calling after the figure disappearing in the dark. Every night.</p><p>“<em>Master…</em>”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes Anakin wishes that he didn’t feel compelled to follow his Master around like a lovesick boy. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to – he <em>is</em> a lovesick boy, after all – it’s just that he is afraid his Master’s infinite patience with him may come to an end soon.</p><p>He was too clingy to begin with, but now he is only getting worse. His separation anxiety grows stronger with every passing day, and with it, his undivided attention to his Master goes completely overboard. It isn’t just annoying – it’s downright <em>smothering</em>, Anakin knows. He knows, even though his Master never mentions it, never even shows it in any way. Anakin <em>knows</em>, but he still cannot stop. Because it seems to him that if he doesn’t chase the elusive star of his Master’s halo, it will just float away – further and further into the vastness of cold, empty space – until it disappears out of sight completely. And then there will be nothing but Darkness for Anakin. Darkness all around him. And that is why, no matter how many times Anakin swears to himself that he will stop, he ultimately finds himself chasing after his Master over and over again. He can never stop.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t remember exactly when it started, but he assumes it began back when he was still a nine-year-old who had just been brought to the Temple. Back then, he couldn’t imagine doing <em>anything</em> other than following his perfect, magnificent Master around like the most obedient of puppies, just needing to be with him, to watch his every move, to catch his every word.</p><p><em>Follow me,</em> his Master told him.</p><p>And he did. He has been ever since, never once having asked: <em>Where are you taking me?</em></p><p> </p><p>It was a long time ago. But now Anakin is no better. He still feels like that stupid little boy with a crush, clutching at the folds of his Master’s Jedi cloak and tripping after him while Master rolls his eyes and tries to ignore his Padawan’s unwanted attention. The only difference is – <em>now</em> Anakin is six feet tall and towering behind his Master’s back like an angel of death, all clothed in dark and throwing menacing glares from under his cowl at everyone who dares to come close to his Master. But just as soon as Master turns around to face him, Anakin’s formidable posture somehow droops: as if on cue, his shoulders sag and his head lowers in a reverent bow. It is a mostly subconscious behavior – the way Anakin’s body simply reflects on how he feels about his Master. In Anakin’s eyes, he is a larger than life celestial warrior with the heavenly host walking behind him, so <em>of course</em>, Anakin thinks that their positions should be reversed – his Master should always be high above him, and he himself should be the one looking up at him. That’s why Anakin <em>hates</em> how tall he has grown (obviously, by some unfortunate mistake). He is uncomfortable in his own skin – he wants to appear smaller, to be plain and inconspicuous. It is the very reason why Anakin wears his somber, almost funereal garb – so as to be just a dark, dramatic backdrop highlighting his Master’s bright and radiant form. And he will always be satisfied to just stand there, in the Dark, playing the guardian of the Light. An ominous black cloud behind his Master’s shoulder. Forever eclipsed by his magnificent stellar shadow.</p><p>No, Anakin isn’t <em>inherently</em> humble, or obedient, or docile – far from it. In fact, he is as sassy and defiant as they come, his chin always held up high and an insolent retort ready on his lips for every occasion someone tries to pull rank on him. Yet, somehow, that rebel inside him is completely tame and meek when it comes to submitting to his Master. He is the only one who can do this to Anakin, who can get him – so incredibly stubborn and powerful – like this. Because he actually <em>deserves</em> the authority he possesses over Anakin’s body and soul.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost scary how easy that transition was.</p><p>
  <em>“The Council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi, I promise.”</em>
</p><p>Just two sentences – and Anakin slipped into the role of his Master’s dutiful apprentice, without even noticing. He learned to comply without question, letting his Master lead their way, taking orders from him and executing his will with overly fervent zeal.</p><p>And now he is so eager to obey – all bright, starry eyes and awestruck adoration – as if he believes that his endless devotion could one day buy him the one thing he so badly desires – <em>his Master’s affection</em>.</p><p>This is what years and years of the passive-aggressive, painful acceptance of his position have come to: he understands that he can never openly acknowledge his feelings, but he can turn that selfish desire into absolute, blind devotion. He can exchange his forbidden, twisted, devastating love for duty and service. He can give his Master his complete and full attention – be his <em>protector</em> – if he can’t be anything else.</p><p>He would not hesitate to kill and die for Obi-Wan Kenobi. It simply is his <em>default</em> <em>setting</em>, even though he realizes that the Jedi doesn’t actually need his protection and only allows Anakin to follow him around to humor him.</p><p>Still, Anakin is absolutely resolute in his conviction: he can’t let any harm come to his Master.</p><p>And so what if he is a bit aggressive when it comes to protecting the only person he cares about? So what if he is ready to kill <em>the entire Galaxy </em>without thinking twice just to keep his Master safe? So what?</p><p>And yes, maybe at some point his insane protectiveness does turn into fervent, jealous possessiveness, but how <em>dare</em> they try to touch his precious Master all the while he himself – his faithful, devoted Padawan – is <em>not allowed</em> to touch the way he wants so badly?</p><p>He is so jealous he feels like he is <em>on fire</em>. His blood is boiling, ready for a fight. <em>Always</em> ready for a fight…</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>When they fight <em>together</em>, it seems as though they gravitate to each other, guided by some invisible pull, until their backs press to one another and the two complementary halves form a single invincible warrior.</p><p>They fight as one – identical and in absolute coordination, knowing and feeling each other completely after years and years of practice.</p><p>They breathe as one – their ragged exhales seem to be coming out of one shared pair of lungs in perfect sync.</p><p>They <em>are</em> one. A full set. A single whole, complete in itself. They are inseparable, terrifying and devastating in their unity.</p><p>But when they fight <em>against</em> each other…</p><p>Suddenly it’s like they are both made of porcelain or crystal – <em>delicate and fragile</em> – and they take every precaution not to accidentally shatter each other.</p><p>They dance around one another, reluctant to land any blows that could put the opponent in a potentially dangerous position. At least, that's what it must look like, Anakin thinks.</p><p>It is painfully obvious that his Master always pulls his punches with him as though he thinks his Padawan is still a little boy who needs to be coddled. His stance is defensive more often than not, and even when he is forced to attack, he does it half-heartedly and, for the lack of a better word, <em>gently</em>. As if he is worried that his Padawan might just <em>break</em>. And it’s not exactly far from the truth.</p><p>The truth is, Anakin is just as apprehensive about being the aggressor. All his lunges are half-assed at best. His style is a chaotic mess. His attacks are haphazard, hasty and rash. His reaction is sluggish, and in the time it takes Anakin to respond, his Master could kill him ten times over. But he doesn’t, of course. Because he is hell-bent on going easy on his clumsy Padawan.</p><p>And, naturally, it annoys Anakin to no end, but he still does nothing to improve the situation. It’s not that he doesn’t want to – he just <em>can’t</em>. The very thought of raising his blade against his Master makes Anakin’s hands shake and leaves him dizzy and sick to his stomach.</p><p>What if he accidentally hurts him somehow? What if he causes him pain? No, Anakin doesn’t think he would be able to take it.</p><p>And so, they keep dancing around like that: his Master – carefully controlled but still as graceful as always, his blade an extension of his hand, twirling and spinning in it with effortless elegance, and Anakin – torn by his inner conflict, his moves constrained and awkward when he dodges or parries, the humming lightsaber in his hand shaking violently, as if sensing her owner’s hesitation to strike.</p><p> </p><p>They must look utterly <em>ridiculous</em> like that, Anakin suddenly realizes one day during one of such practices and almost laughs, shaking his head.</p><p>He finally decides to advance in a whirl of blows, his saber hacking and sliding as he presses on, making his Master retreat towards the pile of crates in the corner of the Training Hall.</p><p>It is a mistake, of course. But, inspired by his unexpected progress, Anakin doesn’t recognize it until it is too late.</p><p>He comes to a screeching halt and stares up at his Master who is now standing on top of a few crates. The tip of his low-powered lightsaber is hot against Anakin’s exposed throat. </p><p>“It’s over, Anakin. I have the high ground,” his Master proclaims, looking at his apprentice softly, with a fond, indulgent smile, and seemingly not at all surprised or disappointed by his failure.</p><p>“Give up now,” he warns, recognizing the expression Anakin usually wears when he decides to ignore the odds that aren’t in his favor.</p><p>“Don’t try it,” he cautions again, shaking his head. But, of course, Anakin tries it.</p><p>He jumps up and forward, propelled by the push of the Force, and leaps over his Master’s head to land on the very top of the pile.</p><p>Now it is <em>him</em> who has the high ground.</p><p>He points his lightsaber down, at his Master’s chest.</p><p>“I win, Master!” he exclaims proudly, with some childish joy, panting heavily, his eyes raking over his Master’s face, looking for desired recognition.</p><p>His Master bows his head slightly in acknowledgement and lowers his own blade.</p><p>Just like that.</p><p>Anakin gasps in shock when the rush of the victory passes and it finally dawns on him: his maneuver was reckless and stupid, brought on by his sheer stubbornness. His Master could have killed him – <em>easily</em> – but he didn’t strike. He <em>let</em> him win.</p><p>“And how does it feel, Ani? Are you enjoying your victory?” his Master asks, his voice velvety and thick like honey, as he takes a step up and presses his chest against the tip of Anakin’s saber, looking up, directly into his wide, shocked eyes. “Does it feel the way you wanted, my dear? Do you like it?”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The extinguished lightsaber falls out of Anakin’s hand with a loud clank.</p><p>He feels shell-shocked, <em>paralyzed</em>.</p><p>He stands there, helpless, on the verge of tears, looking at his Master with huge, pleading eyes.</p><p>He doesn’t know what came over him a few minutes ago. He never wanted that victory.</p><p>He hates it. He <em>hates</em> it!</p><p>All he wanted was his Master’s attention. He craves it more than anything. And he acted out merely in hope of getting that attention focused solely on <em>him</em>.</p><p>He hoped to see his Master lose control, even if just for a moment, and maybe… maybe <em>punish</em> him for acting like a spoiled child and endangering his life so recklessly, even though he knew he couldn’t <em>possibly</em> win, being at a disadvantage in his lower position on the ground.</p><p>But even after Anakin’s utterly <em>outrageous, inexcusable </em>behavior<em>,</em> his Master’s control didn’t slip. He preferred to surrender. The Light gave in to the Darkness. And it shocked Anakin to the core.</p><p>It was so wrong. Unacceptable. Sinful. <em>Blasphemous.</em></p><p>And Anakin despised and abhorred every second of it. He didn’t like to win. Not like that. Not over his Master.</p><p>He <em>loathes</em> his abominable victory. He is disgusted with himself so deeply that his stomach heaves, and Anakin feels like he is either going to be sick or pass out altogether.</p><p>“I hate it!” Anakin chokes out, tasting salt on his lips.</p><p>The world swims before his eyes…</p><p> </p><p>“Obi-Wan!”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Obi-Wan!”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Anakin whirls around in a flash, to where his Master’s figure has stilled by the exit of the Training Hall. His eyes blaze with rage: no one at the Temple dares to call his Master by his first name anymore. No one. It is <em>Master Kenobi</em> for them.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s been ages, old friend!”</p><p> </p><p>Anakin is too far – still leaning against one of the crates on the opposite end of the Training Hall and waiting out the wave of nausea – to reach his Master’s side in time and stop that man, <em>that ugly Kiffar savage</em>, from folding his Master in his arms in a casual, overly familiar manner.</p><p>And Master <em>smiles</em> at him with fondness, seemingly forgetting all about Anakin being there, and allowing the man’s arm slip from his shoulder to his waistline – the gesture’s ease too habitual to be a coincidence.</p><p>Anakin <em>does</em> <em>not</em> like that. He cannot allow this man to put his dirty paws all over his Master.</p><p><em>He has to die</em>, Anakin’s mind immediately supplies the solution with simple, cold determination.</p><p>The Force flares around him and rushes forward, across the room, in a furious, vehement torrent, sweeping the stranger off his feet and throwing him backward into the nearest wall. He falls to the ground in an untidy heap, wheezing and clutching at his throat, his body jerking and convulsing in its death agony.</p><p>
  <em>Master is mine! Mine!</em>
</p><p>Anakin’s soul is shouting in the Force while his hand is clenching in the air in front of him with a strangling grip. Tighter. <em>Tighter</em>.</p><p>He crosses the room in a furious whirlwind of dark robes and stands, looming over the poor bastard on the ground, his lightsaber igniting in his hand with an outraged hiss.</p><p>One stroke and…</p><p> </p><p>“Stop that. <em>Now.”</em> The command rings out cold and clear in the chaos of the dying man’s choked rattle.</p><p>Anakin freezes in place, the sure, dominant tone of his Master’s voice sending a shiver through his whole body, binding his will and making his head bow in instant obedience.</p><p>“Put away your saber at once.” His arms folded and his eyebrow raised in a silent challenge, his Master is waiting for Anakin to turn off his weapon.</p><p>“Passion is not the Jedi way,” he scolds sharply.</p><p>But passion is the only way Anakin knows.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Quinlan Vos, the notorious Jedi Master, droops limply to the ground, his chest heaving with labored gasps, as he watches with perplexed and intrigued amazement how Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber, already raised for the final blow, slowly lowers, and how the boy steps back, powering it down.</p><p>“Yes, Master,” he speaks softly, almost a whisper, his eyes downcast and avoiding looking directly at his displeased teacher, although he must feel his gaze, hot and angry, resting on him because his body immediately falls into a repentant pose.</p><p>“Good boy, Ani,” Obi-Wan murmurs, stepping closer to his apprentice and sliding his hand up the nape of his neck to grab a fistful of his hair grown out too long for a Padawan. His fingers tangle in it and yank the boy’s head back a little.</p><p>Skywalker’s impossibly dark eyes flutter shut as his lips part around a soft gasp.</p><p>He trembles all over, as if electrocuted, when his Jedi Master’s elegant but stern voice berates him, “But you are still too impulsive, my young apprentice. What am I supposed to do with such an insolent Padawan who picks fights with Jedi Masters? Perhaps, I should just tie your hands behind your back, hm?”</p><p>The brat doesn’t even whine – he outright <em>moans</em>, helplessly and desperately, as he throws his head back completely, convulsing in his Master’s grip on his unruly curls.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, <em>Mmah-ster...</em>”</p><p>Obi-Wan observes him for a moment with hungry attention, his expression unreadable, before he closes his eyes and turns away, as if in disappointment, releasing his grip on his apprentice’s hair.</p><p>“Go to your room.”</p><p>“M-master?” The boy stares at him in horror, still shaky and unsteady on his feet.</p><p>Obi-Wan turns to him sharply, his eyes stormy and furious, but his voice is even when he repeats slowly, <em>dangerously</em>:</p><p>“I said <em>go to your room</em>.”</p><p>His eyes huge with awe and terror, his sassy Padawan backs away – <em>slowly, carefully</em> – before he dashes to the nearest exit.</p><p> </p><p>Quinlan Vos chuckles from where he is still lying on the floor.</p><p>“I gotta give it to you, Kenobi – the boy is <em>whipped</em>.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>please</em>.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes with a dismissive wave of his hand and leans over to help his old friend up.</p><p>“No, I mean it,” Vos insists, rising to his feet with a groan of pain. “Follows you around like a dark shadow, scowling and glaring and glowering. I’ve been trying to catch you alone for three days, you know. Didn’t mean to…” the Jedi pauses, looking for words, “didn’t want to <em>trigger </em>him.”</p><p>Obi-Wan presses his hand to his forehead in a tired, irritated gesture.</p><p>“He isn’t always like that, he–”</p><p>“Let me guess,” Vos interrupts with an amused laugh, “only when other people try talking to you? I see you’ve trained your puppy to be your guard dog.”</p><p>Obi-Wan swats his chest, mock-offended.</p><p>“That is an outrageous assumption!”</p><p>“Is it?” Vos whispers, suddenly stepping into Obi-Wan’s personal space and catching him off-guard with his unexpected proximity. “Then what is he gonna do to me if he finds out I stood this close to his precious Master?”</p><p>Obi-Wan recoils instantly, taking a few steps back in haste.</p><p>“Well, he...” His voice falters as Obi-Wan doesn’t really want to muse too closely on what Anakin <em>could</em> do.</p><p>“He must <em>never</em> see you again,” he warns his old friend in an urgent, fervent tone. “He must never find you, you understand?”</p><p>Quinlan Vos chuckles again with satisfaction of being proven right and nods, acknowledging the warning.</p><p>“I just… I wanted to see you. One last time before going undercover again.” He licks his lips slowly, <em>suggestively</em>, and takes a step closer to Obi-Wan again. But this time Obi-Wan is ready for the sudden invasion of his personal space and shrinks back, raising his palm in a forbidding gesture, preventing Quinlan from coming any closer.</p><p>The Jedi smirks to himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head.</p><p>“That’s what I thought,” he says, his palms raised pointedly as he backs away.</p><p>“Quin…” Obi-Wan tries, but he doesn’t let him finish.</p><p>“Goodbye, Obi-Wan.” The Jedi turns to leave, but pauses in the doorway for a moment, his back unnaturally straight but his head bowed, as he speaks, without turning around:</p><p>“You do know he is frustrated beyond measure, right? He’s dangerous, Obi-Wan.”</p><p>“I know.” A little fond smile touches Obi-Wan’s lips. “That’s how I want him.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Their common area is predictably trashed.</p><p>Just as predictably, Anakin is lying in the middle of the havoc he has caused. Passed out. Drunk within an inch of his life, an empty bottle of Obi-Wan’s favorite liquor in his hand.</p><p>His presence in the Force is blurred – glazed over and indistinct.</p><p><em>Right</em>, Obi-Wan sighs, standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, as he assesses the damage.</p><p>“Stupid boy.” He shakes his head and crosses the room in two strides to reach his unconscious Padawan’s side and kneel beside him. “Always have to be dramatic, don’t you.”</p><p>Obi-Wan lifts the boy’s head, cradling the back of his skull.</p><p>“Mmh,” Anakin mumbles something deliriously in response, his head tilting back into Obi-Wan’s hand, revealing the column of his throat.</p><p>Obi-Wan can see the pulse beating under his skin.</p><p>He is vulnerable like that, his unstable and murderous Padawan. He <em>is</em> a threat, and it would be utterly stupid of Obi-Wan not to acknowledge that. And Obi-Wan could snap his neck right now and protect the Galaxy from his Dark fire. He could strangle him while he is weak and defenseless like that. He could…gather him in his arms and carry him – slowly, carefully – into his room.</p><p>“Mmst,” Anakin lets out a happy sigh when his nose ends up pressed into Obi-Wan’s neck as he picks up his limp body.</p><p>“Shh, honey,” Obi-Wan coos, pressing his lips against Anakin’s temple, and starts moving towards his Padawan’s bedroom, carefully avoiding the debris on the floor.</p><p>“You are okay. I got you. You just need some sleep now, and–” The words get stuck in Obi-Wan’s throat when he feels Anakin’s wet, open mouth press hotly to his bare neck.</p><p>“No, Ani,” he whispers, trying to get away from the touch, but he can’t really go anywhere without dropping the boy.</p><p>“Mhaa,” Anakin protests, seeking the lost contact. His whine burns Obi-Wan’s skin. His hand finds purchase in Obi-Wan’s tunic, clutching at it with a death grip.</p><p>“Mine! Mine!” Anakin’s lips whisper with feverish urgency into Obi-Wan’s neck.</p><p>“You are very drunk, dear one,” Obi-Wan admonishes softly as he bends forward to finally put the boy down onto his bed among the rumpled sheets. “There you go, Ani. Now sleep.”</p><p>But <em>Ani</em> doesn’t want to sleep: his bleary eyes open just slightly under their heavy lids and his arms wind around Obi-Wan’s neck, not letting him straighten his back and pulling him down onto the bed with him.</p><p>“D’n leave me,” he mewls, throwing his head back in his delirious abandon, but not letting go of Obi-Wan’s neck.</p><p>Obi-Wan shakes his head with mild amusement and tries to open the ring of Anakin’s arms, but the boy is clinging to him with an unyielding grip, so the only thing Obi-Wan really achieves by his maneuver is losing his footing and collapsing into Anakin’s strong embrace.</p><p>The boy groans victoriously under him, immediately wrapping his legs around Obi-Wan’s waist to keep him <em>there</em>.</p><p>“Ani, please let go,” Obi-Wan begs in a strangled voice, trying to free himself from the trap of his Padawan’s limbs.</p><p>“No, <em>never</em>,” Anakin promises with a moan, pressing himself flush against Obi-Wan’s strained body.</p><p>“Let go, Anakin,” Obi-Wan urges, more sternly now that the absurd reality of the situation has dawned on him fully. “Don’t make me hurt you.”</p><p>“Yes! Hurt me!” the boy slurs, readily grasping at the outrageous idea. “Hurt me, Master!”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s eyes widen as he gasps in shock. His mind screeches and gets stuck on the dilemma of what is more unspeakable: the idea of <em>intentionally</em> hurting his Padawan or the realization that he would <em>let</em> him. Gladly. He would <em>beg </em>for it even. In fact, he is doing just that right now. Trembling and writhing. Pinned under him, his head thrown back to expose his neck to the hot hell of Obi-Wan’s ragged breaths…</p><p>“<em>Master!</em>” The needy whine tears Obi-Wan out of the whirlwind of his thoughts. He thanks the Force that the boy in his arms is too drunk to remember this in the morning. Too drunk to remember how rough and raspy his Master’s voice sounds when he breathes out against his lips:</p><p>“<em>Sleep</em>, Ani.”</p><p>Light tendrils of the Force wrap around Anakin’s body like a warm blanket, making him immediately slump against the sheets, limp and relaxed and – thankfully, finally! – <em>asleep</em>.</p><p>Obi-Wan presses his forehead against his Padawan’s and closes his eyes for a second with a long shaky exhale: he is almost ready to cry with relief.</p><p>He falls onto the bed next to the boy and carefully pulls his head to rest against his chest while he runs his hand up and down the nape of his neck in an all too familiar soothing manner – the way he has done it a thousand times before: his Force Signature is cradling Anakin’s, enveloping it gently and protectively, humming a sweet, entrancing lullaby.</p><p>“Sleep, Ani. You are safe with me. You are my good boy. I will always be with you, dear one. Sleep. Sleep…”</p><p>And Anakin sleeps.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My inspiration for this chapter:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EYsshbNWkAEIzBC.jpg">https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EeLHWtoXkAAKF3F.jpg</a></p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EYsshbNWkAEIzBC.jpg">https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EYsshbNWkAEIzBC.jpg</a></p><p> </p><p> </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. You will fan his fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>When Obi-Wan finally relaxes enough to fall into his meditative state and take a step into the Force, the Son is already expecting him on the obsidian cliff.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Master Kenobi! What a pleasure!” he exclaims, the corners of his lips lifting in a strange, unnerving smile. “Truth be told, I expected you <em>years</em> ago, back when my Sister first approached you. But then again, it is a miracle you have finally found two solid minutes to yourself, with you being a glorified babysitter to the spoiled brat and all.”</p><p>The Son’s voice is smooth and as thick as honey, much like Obi-Wan’s own, and it makes him shiver.</p><p>He rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Being the Dark One doesn’t mean you have to be rude, you know.”</p><p>“Fair enough,” the Son laughs and raises his palms in mock-surrender. “I know you’ve come to discuss a pressing matter, and I know your time is very precious these…well, <em>years</em>. After all, how long is it going to be before your young apprentice bursts into your room, sobbing and hysterical, crying for his beloved Master, huh?”</p><p>Obi-Wan shakes his head with a sigh. “Are you quite done?”</p><p>“Not nearly,” the Son laughs again with cruel satisfaction. “Oh, I am having so much fun with you already, my little Jedi! Tell me, how did you manage to make the boy leave you alone long enough for you to meditate and come talk to me?”</p><p>“You <em>know</em> how,” Obi-Wan grits out through his clenched teeth. “I lulled him to sleep.”</p><p>He winces, already anticipating the outburst of laughter before it actually comes. Still, he startles when the Son guffaws like a madman.</p><p>“And how did you manage <em>that</em>, huh, Master Kenobi?” The Dark One claps his hands like an excited child. “Tell me! Tell me!”</p><p>“I–” Obi-Wan hangs his head and clenches his fists, awaiting another portion of mockery. “I sang to him.”</p><p>“What’s that?” The Son raises his eyebrows in fake surprise. “I didn’t quite hear you.”</p><p>“I sang to him!” Obi-Wan snaps, having suddenly lost his famed control. “I held him in my arms and <em>sang</em> to him!”</p><p>He is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling dramatically with every intake, his cheeks flaming with rage and embarrassment, the blue of his eyes dark and stormy.</p><p>He doesn’t know why he is being so defensive and on edge out of nowhere but…</p><p>How dare this…this <em>Sith</em> poke his dirty fingers in his most private moments!</p><p>Attuned to its master’s mood, the ocean roars somewhere below, crashing into the cliff in foamy splashes. Thunder rumbles ominously in the distance.</p><p>“Now look at you!” the Son marvels. “Finally! The real Obi-Wan Kenobi in all his raging glory! Aren’t you magnificent like this, little Jedi?”</p><p>The Dark One reaches out to touch Obi-Wan’s cheek, but he catches his wrist and pushes his hand away.</p><p>“I’ve come to warn you, Dark One. Your Sister, the One of Light, is aware of your plan. She told me all those years ago that you would come for Anakin, and now I see the signs and I can sense you are finally planning to make your move. That is why I have come to speak with you,” he says sharply, his chin raised in defiance. A silent challenge. “I know that everyone who’s even a little Force-sensitive cowers before you and your terrifying might. Even darksiders, your own servants. But <em>I</em> am a completely different story. You have no power over me and don’t scare me.”</p><p>“Perhaps not yet.” The Dark One chuckles. “But then again, you don’t know me so well, little Jedi. The things I can do…”</p><p>“What <em>can</em> you do?” Obi-Wan’s eyebrow rises in both a taunt and a challenge. “You obviously have no power to fight, otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here to talk. You would have just taken your heir from me.”</p><p>“Maybe I just wanted to meet the illustrious Negotiator,” the Dark Son quips with a smirk.</p><p>“Well, I am here,” Obi-Wan smirks in return, spreading his arms. “And, <em>as the Negotiator</em>, I am asking you to abandon your evil plans. Repent before it’s too late. Reconcile with your Sister. Listen to the voice of the Force and ask for its forgiveness.”</p><p>“So you are but the voice of the Force? Nothing more? Just a messenger?” The Son raises an eyebrow. “No, Jedi, don’t play coy with me. I’ve known you ever since you were born and I can see you are able to accomplish great things in your righteous zeal. But maybe that’s the danger of it? Have you considered the fact that my <em>dearest</em> Sister’s ‘warning’ could be nothing more than a masterful, subtle manipulation?”</p><p><em>Well, not exactly very subtle.</em> Obi-Wan presses his lips not to say that out loud and folds his arms in front of himself in an unconscious protective gesture, but doesn’t interrupt the Son.</p><p>“Your soul is shining in the Force like the brightest star. And although it actually hurts my eyes to even look at you, I can still see that you are wise and cunning, Obi-Wan Kenobi. But are you sure you interpret those signs the Force is giving you correctly? Are you sure you have chosen the right Side? Isn’t it possible that you are meant to help <em>me</em> in my quest and not my Sister?”</p><p>“To help <em>you</em>?!” Obi-Wan almost chokes with indignation. <em>Is the Dark One completely mad?</em></p><p>“Hard as it may be to believe, I am not actually your enemy here, Obi-Wan. And I can prove it,” the Son suggests in the sweetest of voices. “Will you hear me out, Jedi? Will you allow me to expound my views on the Force?”</p><p>“By all means, Dark One.” Obi-Wan, in turn, bows a little and gestures with derisive courtesy. “I’m all ears.”</p><p>
  <em>Does he really think he can seduce him, the Negotiator, with sweet words and promises?</em>
</p><p>“Surely, you cannot deny that the Force is what created this world and what holds it together?” the Son starts, ignoring Obi-Wan’s mockery.</p><p>Obi-Wan nods curtly. He can’t argue with <em>that</em>.</p><p>“And if the Force has the Dark Side, is it not evident that it wants to be that way? Dual in its very nature?”</p><p>Obi-Wan nods again, frowning now. But he can’t help being curious as to where this is all going, so he doesn’t interrupt the Dark Son.</p><p>“And as a Jedi, you cannot believe that the Force is unable to defeat the Dark within itself, can you?”</p><p>“The Force is all-powerful,” Obi-Wan acknowledges, his voice careful and thoughtful. “<em>Nothing</em> is impossible for it.”</p><p>The Son smirks with satisfaction as he continues:</p><p>“The Dark and the Light are like two hyperdrives of a spaceship carrying our reality through the vastness of space and time. And the Dark Side is not a manifestation of evil – it exists to maintain the balance in the Force. A new sprout reaches for the light, but it is born in the darkness of soil. A new star lights up the horizon, but its spark is ignited in the darkness of space. Is it not so, Jedi?”</p><p>“I suppose…” Obi-Wan slowly inclines his head to the side in confusion. He is so engrossed in his thoughts now that he doesn’t immediately realize that the Dark One has come closer again, resting his hand on Obi-Wan’s upper arm.</p><p>His enchanting voice keeps whispering, now close to Obi-Wan’s ear:</p><p>“A Sith is not someone inherently evil. It is someone who uses the Dark Side as a means to an end. And who is to say that the purpose cannot be noble? A Sith is merely someone who can wield the weapons of the Dark–”</p><p>“A soldier in the army of death!” Obi-Wan finally interrupts, coming to his senses, having recognized his momentary lapse of control and batting the Son’s hand away.</p><p>“A soldier, yes,” the Son admits lightly, taking a step back under Obi-Wan’s wrathful gaze. “But isn’t that what you raised your Padawan to be? Didn’t you beguile him into following you with your alluring words? Doesn’t he belong at your feet? On his knees? Is he not your soldier? Your weapon? An instrument in your hands?”</p><p>Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “Perhaps. But I’ve brought him up a Jedi – a warrior of the Light, just as your Sister ordered me. What makes you think that I will let him fight for the opposite Side?”</p><p>The Son smirks as though he has been waiting for Obi-Wan to ask that question.</p><p>“Do you know that after the Ones are gone, the only person who can bring balance to the Force again is the Chosen One?”</p><p>“It has been foretold.” Obi-Wan lowers his head in agreement.</p><p>“And haven’t you ever wondered how it is possible that one person is supposed to do a two-man job?” the Dark One prompts.</p><p>“I…” It doesn’t usually happen to Obi-Wan, but this once he is forced to admit: he is at a loss for words. He has never actually given it too much thought. “Well, come to think of it, it indeed takes two – you and your Sister – to maintain the balance…”</p><p>The Son laughs in delight.</p><p>“Finally! And here I thought it would take <em>decades</em> before someone among the Jedi realizes the obvious – it takes one from <em>each</em> Side of the Force. And curiously enough, the Chosen One your <em>oh-so-holy</em> Temple has, is not even from <em>your</em> Side.”</p><p>“Anakin is–” Obi-Wan gasps in helpless indignation.</p><p>“A Sith,” the Son interrupts, finishing for him. “Or he will be. And soon. He is <em>my heir</em> after all. That’s why my Sister sent you to turn him against me. She thinks he can tip the scales in her favor in our final showdown. She’s never been one for <em>balance</em>.”</p><p>“No! Anakin won’t fall. I will not let it happen!” Obi-Wan’s hand unconsciously reaches to his belt, to where his lightsaber should be. But here, in the Force, he doesn’t have it. He lets his hand fall back to his side, battling his anger back under control.</p><p>“Oh, but you <em>will</em>,” the Son assures him with a nasty smirk. “And not just that – you will actually be the one to <em>push</em> him, make him fall into my Dark waters.”</p><p>“I will do no such thing!” Obi-Wan exclaims in terror, helpless to do anything more than to stand there and listen to the Dark One’s awful, ugly words.</p><p>“Then how will you get him to balance you?” The Son raises an inquisitive brow, and Obi-Wan’s witty reply gets stuck in his throat.</p><p>“What– What do you mean, balance <em>me</em>? As in–”</p><p>“You being the second half of the prophesied balance?” the Son laughs cruelly. “<em>Yes</em>. Of course, the boy is already dimming your unbearable blinding Light as it is, but if his Darkness doesn’t get thick enough soon, your fire will just burn down first him, and then the entire universe.”</p><p>“Lies!” Obi-Wan flares up. “That doesn’t make any sense. If what you’re saying were true, the Daughter would have told me. Surely, she would have warned–”</p><p>“Open your eyes, <em>Negotiator!</em>” the Son exclaims, losing his patience. “You’ve seen enough liars and hypocrites – they sit in your Senate, they sit on your Council… You know better than anyone what they look like when they think they can manipulate their way through <em>anything</em>. Can’t you see the vile smirk of a tyrant under the Daughter’s mask of assumed holiness?”</p><p>“Are you seriously telling me your Sister is evil? That she is not averse to the Dark Side?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow in amused disbelief. <em>The sheer audacity…</em></p><p>“Oh, she hates the Dark Side all right. And she will stop at <em>nothing</em> to destroy it.” The Son chuckles mirthlessly. “So that planets do not cast dark shadows over the light of stars, she will <em>blast</em> them all to pieces. For the sake of the greater good, of course.”</p><p>“Right,” Obi-Wan drawls. He doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest.</p><p>“It is not a trick, my dear Obi-Wan.” The Son’s voice suddenly sounds tired. “I swear to you, if Anakin’s Darkness doesn’t contain your Light, my Sister will use you. You will become her ultimate weapon. You will end the world.”</p><p>“I don’t believe you,” Obi-Wan whispers with only his lips, his voice cracked and barely audible.</p><p>
  <em>How can it be? How has he turned out to be the one who needs to be contained? How can it be that his Light is, in fact, a catastrophic nuclear reaction which needs a confinement sarcophagus only Anakin’s Darkness can create?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Unthinkable...</em>
</p><p>“Oh, my sweet little Jedi…” The Son shakes his head as if in regret. “Soon you’ll see that not only Darkness can destroy galaxies. We are not so different after all, my Sister and I. In any case, you can choose to believe me or not, but the time is near when you and your apprentice should stand together as one and–”</p><p>The Son suddenly bends in half in a fit of violent coughing.</p><p>“Dark One–” Following a sudden pang of compassion, Obi-Wan rushes to his aid. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Not nearly.” The Son raises his palm in a forbidding gesture, stopping Obi-Wan from coming any closer. “I feel my doom closing in, so let us continue while I still have time.”</p><p>“Allow me at least to ease your pain,” Obi-Wan insists. “I’m good at Force healing.”</p><p>“If it is not too much to ask…” the Son relents and lets Obi-Wan press his palm to his chest, sending a healing wave through the Force.</p><p>“Thank you, Jedi. I can see that your famous compassion and your sense of duty is stronger than any prejudice, even against your enemies.”</p><p>“You should continue your treatment at the Temple,” Obi-Wan urges. “We have great healers there, and if you are willing to manifest yourself to them–”</p><p>“No, it would be of no use to me now.” The Son shakes his head and pushes Obi-Wan’s hand away. “Anyway, I’ve done everything I can to warn you that Anakin’s fall is imminent, but the free will is still yours: you can choose to stop him – or <em>help</em> him when the time comes. Think about it, and goodbye, the<em> Righteous One.</em>”</p><p>He suddenly leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead. And then throws himself off the cliff.</p><p> </p><p>Still in shock, Obi-Wan looks at the horizon.</p><p>The storm is gathering there.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Master!</em>” </p><p>Obi-Wan hears Anakin’s distant voice calling his name. Calling him out of his meditative state. Needy as always.</p><p>And then another voice, immediately supplying:</p><p>
  <em>Doesn’t he belong at your feet?</em>
</p><p>Obi-Wan opens his eyes.</p><p>“Come here, dear one.” He beckons to his young apprentice to come closer to his armchair. “Come sit at my feet.”</p><p>And Anakin Skywalker <em>falls</em> to his knees.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Kneel for him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><strong>UPDATED.</strong> Thanks to my lovely beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong>, this chapter is now polished and shiny!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come here, dear one. Come sit at my feet.”</p><p>The realization comes crashing down onto Anakin’s poor confused mind like a Star Destroyer: Master had never actually <em>asked</em> for his submission before. <em>Not once.</em> He doesn’t even need to ask – Anakin always falls over himself to please him, and the man always moves away and almost dances around Anakin, deflecting his advances and distancing himself, always so enticingly close and yet impossible to reach. It is intoxicating. It makes Anakin want more and more with every moment they spend together. And it scares him, just a little, but doesn’t stop him from chasing after his Master’s attention.</p><p>But never before had Master asked him to come closer – it was always Anakin who initiated that dangerous, intimate proximity. And now…</p><p>The world tilts on its axis as Anakin obediently sinks to his knees between his Master’s spread thighs. Reduced to nothing before him. Watching a slow, affectionate smile curl his lips.</p><p>His Master is the perfect Jedi, always in complete control of himself, but that is not what makes him so perfect in Anakin’s eyes – it’s the inexplicable control he has over<em> him. </em>And that is exactly what Anakin needs – his Master’s control, since he has none of his own.</p><p> </p><p>“Master,” Anakin exhales when a thrill passes through him as he curls his hands into his lap and bows his head. <em>Like a good boy</em>. Hoping against hope that he could hide his burning desire – bright and hungry in his gaze.</p><p>The sudden certainty that <em>this once</em> he won’t be ignored or turned away, that he will get as much attention as he can take, leaves him breathless with impatient anticipation.</p><p>He lets out a happy sigh of <em>finally, finally!</em> as his Master tangles one hand in his hair and pulls his head back a little, exposing his throat. A shudder pierces Anakin’s body, dragging his eyelids down. But in the next moment…</p><p>“Look at me, Anakin,” his Master demands, and Anakin’s eyes snap open again, with the embers of wild, desperate lust glowing hidden under the ash of his shy, embarrassed need.</p><p>His Master is looking down at him, his lips slightly parted, a strand of his hair falling over his eyes, and Anakin licks his lips nervously, silently wondering if his Master likes him like that, all starry-eyed and obedient for him.</p><p>“Do you have something to tell me, dear one?” the Jedi murmurs, raising a questioning eyebrow, as he lets go of Anakin’s curls and leans back in his armchair.</p><p>“I–” Anakin gulps. He has so much, <em>so much</em> to tell his Master, but… “I am sorry I’ve trashed the living room, Master.”</p><p>The Jedi closes his eyes for a moment in acknowledgement, still smiling in that soft, indulgent way of his that never fails to make Anakin feel unworthy of such kindness.</p><p><em>He </em>tolerates<em> you, Anakin. But only barely. Don’t test his patience.</em></p><p>Bitter, unbidden tears tighten Anakin’s throat. He wants to cry. He wants… But Master is still silent, expecting Anakin to continue, so he goes on, swallowing his tears along with his pride:</p><p>“And I am sorry I’ve drunk all of your Twi’lek liquor, Master.”</p><p>The man tilts his head to the side, his brow raised in clear amusement.</p><p>“And what else are you sorry about, my intractable Padawan?”</p><p>Anakin’s expression is genuinely puzzled when he answers carefully, “Um…nothing?”</p><p>His Master’s forehead creases slightly, and Anakin immediately realizes that his answer is not at all what his Master wants to hear and therefore <em>wrong.</em></p><p>“What about almost killing Master Vos?” the man prompts patiently. “Aren’t you sorry about that, Padawan?”</p><p>“But Master!” Anakin exclaims with a scandalized expression, his anger flaring in him and swirling around him, raw and uncontrollable. “I had to! He– He…<em>touched</em> you! He–”</p><p>Anakin chokes with his righteous indignation. His chest heaving with rapid breaths and his blood rushing to his face, he springs to his feet and dashes away, quickly turning his back to his Master, slumping his shoulders and clutching at his unruly curls in distress.</p><p>“You know it’s no use running away from me. I can still sense your rage, Padawan,” his Master’s voice states patiently, low and silky and completely unaffected. “How it is gathering around you. How it is calling to your Darkness. I can hear it humming into your ears.”</p><p>Anakin whirls around, eyes huge with terror.</p><p>Master <em>can’t</em> know how close to the Dark Side he really is. He will be disappointed. He will throw him out of the Temple because anger is <em>not the kriffing Jedi way</em>. He…</p><p>“I’m– I’m not angry, I’m just– I–” Anakin denies, his voice shaking with fear, and, well, technically, it’s not a lie. He isn’t angry – he is <em>furious</em>.</p><p>The corners of his Master’s mouth twitch as a forbearing smile tugs at his lips. His gaze is soft, gentle – in such stark contrast with Anakin’s own distraught, distressed expression that Anakin wants to weep like a little child from his own inadequacy.</p><p>“Come now, Anakin,” his Master drawls in clear amusement. “You have no control over yourself whatsoever. I can read your every emotion – you are practically <em>throwing</em> them at me. That’s why I never let you out of my sight. How can I? When you are always like this. When your Force presence is an <em>open wound</em>, and you are all but <em>begging</em> the Dark Side to take you.”</p><p>“No, Master, I–” Anakin’s voice cracks. “It’s not–”</p><p>“On your knees, Padawan.” His Master tilts his head, voice unreadable. “<em>Now</em>.”</p><p>And Anakin tumbles down to the floor again, onto his hands and knees before his Master, as if someone had pushed him from behind.</p><p>“Master, I know revenge is not the Jedi way, but… I <em>must</em> kill him, please… <em>Please!</em>” Anakin whines, his head hanging miserably between his shoulders, as he crawls closer to his Master’s armchair.</p><p>He sits back on his heels, hands on his knees, and his head dropped forward a little. His pose is submissive – his eyes are not. They are blazing with a feverish glare.</p><p>“I can’t just– He– He came so close– put his hands<em> all over you!</em>”</p><p>“And you <em>let</em> him, Anakin,” his Master points out flatly and watches with curious attention how Anakin’s face contorts from sheer horror with every word he speaks. “You didn’t stop him in time, too engrossed in your own misery. He could have been an assassin. He could have hurt me. He could have killed me right before your eyes…”</p><p>“Mmh…” Anakin’s palm clasps over his mouth to muffle his anguished mewl. His eyes go huge with the terrible realization.</p><p>
  <em>He failed his Master. He didn’t protect him. He is a bad, bad Padawan. He is a disgrace. A stupid, useless, powerless child. A disappointment…</em>
</p><p>“You were listening to your Darkness instead of me. You let its voice pour into your ears in place of mine. You made me <em>repeat</em> myself.” His Master’s reproach is soft, and his voice is still as honeyed as ever but has this new, barely distinguishable sharpness in it, one that won’t stand for that kind of disobedience. “I have been bringing you up to be a <em>blade</em>. Sharp and precise. I can’t have you this <em>undisciplined</em>, my Padawan.”</p><p>His Master’s disappointment is almost <em>tangible</em> around Anakin, seeping under his skin, into every cell of his body like poison, making him scream in agony and droop forward, sprawling awkwardly on the carpet before his displeased Master.</p><p>“Forgive me, Master! Please, please!” he begs between the sobs as he grovels at his feet, butting his face against his Master’s bare ankle, writhing and shuddering in anguish and despair, his hands clenching in the carpet, as if trying to refrain from touching his Master without permission.</p><p>But when he finally dares to lift himself on his arms and raise his head to look up, eyes full of pleas and hope, all he can see is the face showing only baffling, detached serenity. No compassion. <em>No mercy.</em></p><p>And Anakin stops. Stops moving, stops trembling, stops breathing – just freezes entirely, completely, beautifully still. <em>Paralyzed</em>.</p><p>He waits, watches as if in slow motion how his Master’s hand reaches for him, skims behind his neck and over his nape. The long, elegant fingers curl into his tousled hair. And grip. <em>Hard</em>.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Master!” Anakin’s lips part around a pathetic whine, and he lets his head fall back against his Master’s hand, almost hanging from its hold, utterly malleable. “I’ve been such a bad apprentice. I should be <em>punished</em>.”</p><p>“Well, well,” Master’s velvety voice hums, amused but undeniably pleased. “My stubborn, rebellious Padawan wants me to punish him, huh?”</p><p>From under his half-closed eyelids, Anakin watches his Master shift in his chair, leaning closer to him, before he breathes out, a command scalding hot against his already burning cheek.</p><p>“<em>Beg.</em>”</p><p>The low rumble of his Master’s voice pours into Anakin’s ears like a hypnotizingly calling beacon for his wrecked mind to hold on to, and it is suddenly too good, too much to bear: Anakin’s body convulses as the word pierces it with an electric-hot jolt of pleasure.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>, Master!” he whimpers pathetically, scrambling on his shaking hands to sit up on his heels. “Please, punish me! Hurt me. Make me scream, Master!”</p><p>He is panting for breath, his chest rising and falling in a panicked rhythm. He is dizzy and unable to focus on anything, not even the words spilling out of his mouth on their own, shameless and unstoppable.</p><p>“Show me your control, Master. Put me in my place. Make me obey.” His hands are shaking when he clasps them behind his back in a gesture of absolute submission. “Tie me up like you promised. Please, <em>please</em>…”</p><p>He is reduced to a complete sobbing mess by the time his Master is finally satisfied with his pleas and closes the distance between them, almost grazing his lips over Anakin’s ear.</p><p>The hot exhale burns Anakin’s <em>whole being,</em> and he is still. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. Not after the man basically <em>purrs</em>:</p><p>“I don’t need restraints to control you, my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Oh, isn’t it the sweetest thing in the entire universe?</p><p>Anakin Skywalker <em>on his knees</em> before him.</p><p>The Son was right: he <em>belongs</em> there.</p><p>The Chosen One, the strongest Force-wielder in history, his willful, prideful Padawan – <em>groveling</em> at his feet, calling him <em>Master</em> and <em>begging</em> him to do whatever he wants to him.</p><p>And it’s Obi-Wan who made him like this. Slowly, subtly… Breaking him with gentle touches, wreaking him with kind words, shattering him with soft smiles. Little by little. He twisted his mind, pulled his strings, smashed his defenses until the boy was too hopelessly entangled. Until he couldn’t see a thing, blinded by his Master’s blazing halo.</p><p>The thought of finally subjugating his rebellious disciple <em>completely</em> rolls like thunder through Obi-Wan’s veins. <em>Triumphant.</em> After all, Obi-Wan could have been swallowed by his powerful Padawan’s Darkness, but somehow, he has managed to <em>tame </em>it instead. Put it on a leash and commanded it to lie at his feel. And the Darkness obeyed.</p><p>And now Obi-Wan is the only being in the entire universe who speaks in the voice Anakin Skywalker can’t resist. The voice that taught him everything he knows. The voice that never needs to rise to have the boy completely wrecked, vulnerable, and desperate, and sobbing in his urgent need to be told what to do.</p><p>And all this raw power and all this hot mess that is Anakin Skywalker, is now <em>his</em>.</p><p>And he is <em>begging</em> to be taken. Right now, at this very moment, he is screaming in the Force, tugging impatiently at their Bond:</p><p>
  <em>I want to be yours, Master! Take me! Make me yours!</em>
</p><p>“You are all mine, Ani,” Obi-Wan murmurs the soft reassurance while a heady, intoxicating rush of satisfaction washes over him. “You belong to me.”</p><p>The boy is trembling like a leaf in front of him, his already low shields tumbling down as he welcomes his Master into his core.   </p><p>“That’s right, sweetheart… Let me in,” Obi-Wan hums, caressing his Padawan's curls, his soft yet commanding tone far too overwhelming for Anakin to even try to resist, and the boy’s eyelids flutter, his lips parting with a needy moan.</p><p>“Master...”</p><p>The word tastes like sweet, innocent submission and dirty, wanton lust all at once on Obi-Wan’s lips when his apprentice breathes it out mere inches away from his face.</p><p>The boy’s eyes snap open in awe for a second when he senses Obi-Wan’s thick, velvety, honey-like essence spill into his soul, but then they flutter shut again as his head rolls back from how dizzy and overwhelmed he suddenly feels.</p><p>“Oh, my stupid little apprentice,” Obi-Wan croons, but his gaze is feral and his lips part to show his teeth.</p><p>Anakin Skywalker has been calling him Master since the very first minute they met, offering himself to him so shamelessly, so desperately, dropping his shields and inviting him into his mind. Willing. Vulnerable. Obi-Wan could tear him apart right now. He could break him like a porcelain doll. He could drown him in his essence until he has forgotten what he is. Until he is nothing but a mindless puppet in his Master’s hands. And the Ones may be all-powerful for now, but it’s still <em>Obi-Wan</em> who gets to choose the Side his Padawan will end up on.</p><p>The Force buzzes with ecstatic pleasure, obedient to Obi-Wan, as it loops like a collar around Anakin’s throat and <em>squeezes</em>. Just slightly. A little demonstration of what might happen if Anakin is not careful.</p><p>But Anakin is not scared – he just mewls, his wet eyelashes trembling on his burning cheeks, and reaches for Obi-Wan’s hand, guiding it to wrap against his throat for real, to tighten until it leaves a splotchy necklace of bruises. He even whines as he tries to press up closer against Obi-Wan’s hand, and with shocking clarity Obi-Wan realizes he could actually kill the boy if he applied just a little more pressure… And he would <em>let</em> him. Would welcome it in reality just like he did in the Force once. He would trust him with his life, surrender to him fully and completely, and that very concept is so painfully intense and intimate and <em>erotic</em> that Obi-Wan feels stunned and mesmerized for a moment.</p><p>But he shouldn’t get caught in his own web. He shouldn’t fall for his own creation. Shouldn’t reciprocate his Padawan’s lust, lured by the sheer desire to possess him.</p><p>Oh, there are so many things he shouldn’t do…</p><p>
  <em>Fuck them all.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin just lets out a low, delighted moan in response when his Master strengthens the hold on his neck and tilts his head to the side to whisper into his ear, voice dark and heavy, “Such a good boy for me, Ani.”</p><p>Hot breath ghosting along his neck and the low rumble of that voice humming in his mind, smooth and warm and alluring and irresistible, whispering <em>you are mine</em> – it’s all way too much for Anakin to take right now.</p><p>“You will never listen to anyone or anything but me, my Padawan.”</p><p>Little soft whimpers escape Anakin’s parted lips as he trembles, looking up from under his lashes and forcing his hands to stay where they are – folded behind his back – because the need to be good and obedient for his Master overpowers everything else, even the unbearable urge to touch.</p><p>“My voice will be the only voice whispering into your ears.”</p><p>Anakin sees the Force flare up around his Master’s head in little sparks and tongues of fire, framing his face in a blinding halo of power. And that power – that control and authority radiating from him – it is pure, unrestrained energy, like a core of a star. And it is focused solely on Anakin. Waiting patiently to <em>consume</em> him.</p><p>“My words will be the only words you will ever hear.”</p><p>The tendrils of his Master’s white-hot aura are curling like smoke around Anakin and pushing into his mouth, and Anakin breathes it in, letting it cloud his mind with intoxicating haze.</p><p><em>Open up, Ani,</em> it purrs. <em>Drink me up. Every drop. Just like you’ve always wanted. Until you’ve drowned in me completely.</em></p><p>Anakin’s head sways as his Master’s honey-colored, alluring presence starts pooling around him, drowning out everything else, rushing into his nose and mouth like hot water until he starts choking on it. And even then, it doesn’t stop. It keeps pouring in through Anakin’s helplessly parted lips. Filling him up completely.</p><p>“Shh, sweetheart…” his Master’s gentle voice coos, resonating in Anakin’s every cell, when he tightens his grip on his curls, holding him still as he gags and splutters and making him <em>take it</em>. “That’s it… Swallow it all down like a good boy.”</p><p>And Anakin whines and gurgles and writhes in useless efforts to squirm away, but obediently drinks it all in – all the Light pouring out of his Master – choking himself on it, tears streaming down his face and saliva drooling out of the corners of his wide-open mouth.</p><p>“Oh, Anakin, you are incredibly powerful – and you just let me have you like this,” his Master murmurs into his ear, perfectly, <em>effortlessly</em> in control. “You could bring the whole Galaxy to its knees if only I <em>ordered</em> you to… If I told you <em>how</em>…”</p><p>His Master’s essence starts to burn him from the inside, the heat of a star’s core spilling through him, sliding down his body in soft tongues of flame, and Anakin just relaxes into it, allows himself to sink fully into that exquisite, heady, molten Light blinding his vision. The white and yellow and bronze and gold are burning too brightly to be contained. And Anakin soaks it all up, reveling in the feeling of the imminence: it has only dawned on him now, <em>too late</em> to do anything – his Master’s star on the dark horizon is so impossibly bright because it is a <em>supernova</em>. Ready to burst and destroy everything in its path. Ready to swallow itself and turn into a supermassive black hole. And Anakin knows, sees it with absolute, terrifying clarity, that one day it will swallow <em>him</em> too.</p><p>And Anakin whispers reverently, looking directly into his Master’s eyes, as he catches his hand and presses his lips to his knuckles:</p><p>“Yes, tell me what to do. I will do anything for you. I will be anything you tell me to be. Command me. I want <em>your</em> <em>words</em>, Master. Only yours.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey, guys!<br/><em><strong>havenothingtodowithme</strong></em> has created <a href="https://havenothingtodowithme.tumblr.com/post/630244643845636096/the-tendrils-of-his-masters-white-hot-aura-are">AN AMAZING ILLUSTRATION FOR THIS CHAPTER</a></p><p> </p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Decipher him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How can this be? How? <em>How?!</em></p>
<p>How is it that his Master – his all composed and unflappable and not at all affected Master – has just told Anakin that his <em>punishment</em> is over and sent the complete and utter <em>mess</em> that he is right now to meditate in his room? To meditate! After everything that’s just happened!</p>
<p>After he watched Anakin kneel for him in unconditional surrender.</p>
<p>After his fingers pressed possessive purple marks into Anakin’s throat.</p>
<p>After Anakin moaned like a cheap whore around a mouthful of his aura, choking himself on it like he would have on his dick.</p>
<p>After he gripped Anakin’s hair and held him in place and made him <em>take it</em> and <em>swallow it</em>. And Anakin did. Like a good boy. Feeling so full when Master pushed into his mind, making him woozy and overwhelmed. Oh, it was so, so <em>good</em>…</p>
<p>And now the front of his leggings is a sticky mess, and he is lying in a heap of limbs on his bed, trying to either wrap his mind around what just transpired between them or at least cry himself to sleep because… Because why, <em>how</em> is he always like that? Unattainable. Untouchable. Unaffected. Everything Anakin isn’t.</p>
<p>How can he be so cool when Anakin is on fire, burning, <em>blazing</em> with his passion for him?</p>
<p>How could he be so oblivious as to not realize how outright <em>obscene</em> the whole thing looked?</p>
<p>Can’t he see how<em> charged,</em> how painfully <em>erotic </em>their every moment together has become ever since he turned sixteen? And even before that? Was Anakin’s love ever innocent? Was it ever pure and untainted by lust? Or did Anakin take his Master’s tender, loving care for him and <em>twist</em> it in his mind until it was distorted beyond recognition?</p>
<p><em>An</em> <em>abomination</em>…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He doesn’t remember exactly when his obsession with his young, beautiful Master and his greedy desire to possess him turned into lust, but his Master was right when, at some point, he decided to forbid Anakin from coming to sleep in his bed under <em>any</em> pretenses.</p>
<p>“You are a Jedi, Anakin. The Jedi are not supposed to fear anything. Especially not their bad dreams,” he told him one night, gently pushing him out of his bedroom, “so no more of this.”</p>
<p>No more of this.</p>
<p>No more going to his room in the middle of the night. No more watching him sleep, calm and peaceful under his covers. No more calling for him in the dark, his voice whiny and needy – <em>Master, Master</em> – until he woke up, soft and disheveled from sleep, and frowned in concern “Ani?”, and then just sighed in resignation and beckoned him to come closer.</p>
<p>“What is it this time?” he would ask, and Anakin would mutter his carefully prepared excuse, already climbing under the sheets and curling around him like an octopus.</p>
<p>Sometimes he would even cry if he needed to, convincingly sobbing and smearing his tears all over his cheeks, until his Master took pity on him and started to hesitantly stroke his calloused fingers up and down his back, murmuring soothing sweet nothings, voice husky from sleep, and waiting patiently until Anakin calmed down and eventually fell asleep in his arms – or rather, sank into a sleepy meditative trance, feeling a warm, golden wave of bliss wash over him with the soft huffs of his Master’s exhales brushing up against his neck.</p>
<p>“Uma ji muna,” Anakin allowed himself to murmur one night, feeling cozy and content, and knowing that his Master spoke hundreds of languages but – very deliberately, on principle – not Huttese. No, his refined, pleasantly lilting voice would never speak a word of the disgusting language of slavers. However, never doing something doesn’t necessarily equal inability. Anakin knows that now. After his Master suddenly tensed in his grip and told him to go to his own room.</p>
<p>That was so unfair! Anakin was <em>furious</em>. Oh, the tantrums he used to throw back then! But his Master remained adamant.</p>
<p>
  <em>No more of this.</em>
</p>
<p>Okay, then. Fine. <em>Fine! </em>He was not going to be upset because of some stupid kriffing bantha fodder! He wasn’t, okay? He was too old for that, right? <em>Right</em>. He didn’t need to be fussed over. He was <em>just fine.</em> Just <em>kriffing amazing! </em>He…</p>
<p>…sneaked into his Master’s bedroom the first chance he got when the Jedi was away on a short mission. He climbed under the covers and threw his arms around his Master’s pillow before he let the dam that was holding back his anguish and misery finally break.</p>
<p>He cried and cried until his exhaustion started pulling him into restless slumber. His red-rimmed eyes fell shut under his heavy, puffy eyelids, and lying in his Master’s bed, he felt like he was floating, taken away by the lulling waters of the man’s Force Signature all around him.</p>
<p>He curled up in the rumpled sheets, pulling the soft fabric around his body and rubbing his nose into it. His chest heaved with a sob again: falling asleep surrounded by his Master’s scent was both a curse and a blessing at the same time. He knew then, at that very moment, that he would do it again. Every chance he got. He would sleep in his Master’s bed when he couldn’t see, warm it for him, leave his own faint smell behind on his sheets and pillows so that when his Master lay on them next time, he would have no choice but to be enveloped in his Padawan’s scent, covered and surrounded by it completely, feeling Anakin’s embrace all over his skin whether he wanted or not.</p>
<p>
  <em>No more of this?</em>
</p>
<p>Master didn’t really think it would be so easy to get rid of his young apprentice’s unwanted attention, did he? Oh no, Anakin was going to find other ways to lure him into his arms. He never was as pure and innocent as Master thought him to be, after all.</p>
<p>If Master really wanted to push him away, he should have pushed him further. Much, <em>much</em> further. What even was that feeble attempt on his eleventh birthday? Ridiculous! And being just a little bit hysterical was all it took Anakin to make Master <em>promise</em> – promise him the safety of his arms for as long as Anakin needed. Oh, stars, it was <em>so easy!</em></p>
<p>But he agreed, however reluctantly. And while Anakin was becoming older, he never broke his word, even though he was visibly uncomfortable and <em>clearly</em> hyper-aware of how inappropriate any touch would be now that something had changed in Anakin’s presence in the Force and in how desperately he started clinging to him, pressing against his chest, slipping his hands into the folds of his tunic and curling them tight every chance he got.</p>
<p>Thirsty. He was <em>thirsty</em>. Ruthlessly unrelenting in wanting so much more. Master must have felt it. Couldn’t <em>not </em>feel it. But still, he didn’t push him away. Didn’t chide him for being weak and too hopelessly attached. Didn’t shrink back when the first sparks of Anakin’s kindling fire of want burned his palms. Instead, he sighed, resigned but resolute in his conviction to be there for him, and never refused to wrap his arms around his charge when he begged for it.</p>
<p>And oh, Anakin did beg. Sometimes outright, sometimes coming up with excuses to receive comfort, and sometimes – just looking miserable enough for his Master’s heart to clench in pity for him.</p>
<p>All in all, Anakin wasn’t above resorting to <em>any</em> ploys necessary to get what he wanted because when he did get it after all – when the circle of his Master’s arms closed around him – every time Anakin’s mind just went blank, his roaring storm lulled and calmed in the safety and comfort of the Jedi’s embrace. He would swallow, throat dry, relishing the strange, entirely alien feeling of tranquility, and unable to think past his Master’s body so close against his own and how tenderly he was holding him.</p>
<p><em>Like a small child</em>, Anakin’s mind supplied one day, the thought unhelpful and bittersweet. <em>That’s what you will always be to him. A little brother he never wanted.</em></p>
<p>But Anakin was fifteen back then. Not a child. <em>Not a child!</em> So when the echo of his Master’s words from years ago rang out in his memory – <em>“You are like a brother to me, Anakin.”</em> – he was suddenly <em>angry</em>, so much that he found himself shaking with it.</p>
<p><em>A brother! </em>That was not at all what he wanted to be. Although…</p>
<p>Another scalding, twisted thought suddenly flashed through his mind, making his heart sink into his stomach, too bashful to even think about it. If anything could be even more forbidden than a relationship between a Jedi Master and his Padawan, it was this.</p>
<p>
  <em>Brothers.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The heat of shame mixed with arousal spread across Anakin’s cheeks and neck like a wildfire, bringing tears to his eyes.</p>
<p>Why did his mind have to be so filthy?<em> Force…</em> But the worst of it… The worst of it was that Anakin suddenly realized – with such sharp, ringing clearness – that even if it were true, it still wouldn’t stop his desire.</p>
<p>What is one more perverse, indecent thought in the puddle of mud that his mind already is anyway?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a long time ago, but even now, just remembering that day, Anakin can’t help but hide his flaming face in his hands.</p>
<p>Yes, yes, that – <em>that</em> is how he has desired his Master all these years, for as long as he can remember. Never chaste. Never innocent.</p>
<p>And Master may think he unintentionally broke him somewhere along the way, but the truth is – he was already ruined right from the start, flawed beyond repair.</p>
<p>And it was frankly ridiculous how Master thought that his Light infusion would be punishment enough to make Anakin regret trying to kill his ex-lover.</p>
<p>Doesn’t he get it yet? He will kill anyone who dares to stand between them – legions and armies, the Sith or the Jedi – he will <em>destroy them all.</em></p>
<p><em>That’s</em> what his Master should really be worried about. Because however much Light he pours – <em>forces</em> – into him, Anakin will still be drenched in Darkness to the core.</p>
<p>But Master doesn’t see that, does he? Not the lust. Not the violence. None of it. In his armor of chaste piety, he is completely oblivious to how openly sexual Anakin’s every glance, touch, and gesture have become.</p>
<p>
  <em>How can he possibly be so blind? How? Why?</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin doesn’t know. Although…</p>
<p>“Oh, you’ve got to be kriffing kidding me!” Anakin growls with helpless rage into his pillow when a sudden guess pierces his dizzy brain. There is only one plausible explanation for his Master’s amazing ability to overlook the obvious: after all those years, no matter how old Anakin gets, he is <em>still a child</em> to him – a small scared boy in need of his care and comfort, all pure and innocent. <em>A little brother.</em></p>
<p>Okay, then. It’s okay. It’s fine. Just fine. <em>Just. Kriffing. Fine…</em></p>
<p>He keeps telling himself that, repeating the words like a mantra, but no matter how many times he tries to convince himself, it just won’t work. The words are empty, so his mind doesn’t want to believe them. It is rejecting them. It is laughing at them. And Anakin is <em>crying</em>.</p>
<p>He cries and cries until he falls asleep, or rather, <em>passes out </em>from exhaustion.</p>
<p>And nothing is fine.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A shout-out to my amazing beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Desire him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, guys!<br/><em><strong>havenothingtodowithme</strong></em> has made <a href="https://havenothingtodowithme.tumblr.com/post/630244643845636096/the-tendrils-of-his-masters-white-hot-aura-are"> an illustration for Chapter 15: Kneel for him</a><br/>You should totally check it out! It’s amazing ❤️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anakin is still not feeling well after the miserable, sleepless night he had. Or maybe it’s the aftermath of yesterday’s Light infusion. He feels like he is hungover or, perhaps, even still a little drunk. It is as though he is moving through a haze, as though everything is covered with a barely discernible veil fluttering slightly in the breeze. He is so drowsy and dizzy that when at some point he finds himself sitting in a chair at the head of a long conference table with a few outrageously overdressed Senators around it, he is not even surprised that he doesn’t exactly remember how he got there. He has no idea what is being discussed either, but judging by the stubborn expressions on the Senators’ faces and how they are shouting at him and each other, their voices a distant, muffled, <em>angry</em> rumble, the negotiations aren’t going too well.</p>
<p>Anakin’s skin breaks out in a cold sweat.</p>
<p>
  <em>What is going on? Why is he the one doing this in the first place? Where is his Master?</em>
</p>
<p>An iron grip of panic clenches his heart so tightly that he forgets how to breathe. He starts reaching for his lightsaber, almost on autopilot, needing the reassurance of her weight in his hand to stop the wave of nervous nausea, but then, thankfully, he feels his Master’s magnificent presence in the Force wash over him – a breath of crisp, salty air taking Anakin’s dizziness away and making the little hairs on his nape stand on end with sharp attention.</p>
<p>The Jedi comes to stand behind Anakin’s chair, his hands landing on his shoulders, and the possessiveness of the gesture makes Anakin feel as if the ground disappeared from under his feet and he suddenly whooshed down from a great height. Not good, not good at all for his poor, hungover mind…</p>
<p>Anakin lets out an involuntary gasp when the world starts spinning wildly around him, his Master’s face the only solid, immovable point in the whirlwind of broken, distorted shapes.</p>
<p>And the mere way he is looking down at Anakin – dangerous, predatory, hungry – the look he has <em>never ever</em> given him before… Anakin feels hot and weak under the intensity of that gaze, arousal immediately pooling in his lower belly like liquid fire.</p>
<p>“I see you’re raising your voices at my apprentice, Senators,” his Master drawls, deliberately calm and not even taking his smiling eyes off of Anakin to look at them. “Is he being <em>incompetent</em> again?”</p>
<p>Anakin stares up at him, not trying to excuse his behavior, not even daring to breathe, like prey fascinated by a serpent’s gaze.</p>
<p>The Senators shift in their chairs uncomfortably, their expressions resembling those of trapped animals.</p>
<p>“The Negotiator himself.” Their reverent whispers rustle through the room.</p>
<p>“Master, I–” Anakin whispers too, not really grasping what exactly is going on, the reality treacherously slipping through his fingers and refusing to register in his brain, hazy with arousal, so he just stops trying to catch it altogether and does the only clear thing on his mind – reaches up to caress his Master’s cheek…</p>
<p>A sudden sharp order almost physically slaps his palm away.</p>
<p>“Hands on the armrests.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Master,” Anakin utters, startled and wide-eyed, and clutches at his chair until his knuckles go white with the strain of his nervous grip. </p>
<p>He throws his head back onto the headrest, looking up at his Master like a lovesick puppy awaiting commands. <em>Surely</em>, Master knows what is happening. He will tell him what to do, won’t he?</p>
<p>The Jedi smiles, contented, and slides his hand down Anakin’s chest and back up, along his neck, making him tilt his head back even further and exposing the vulnerable line of his throat in the most possessive gesture imaginable.</p>
<p>“Good boy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin whines at the unexpected praise, having completely forgotten that he is in a room full of people. He is swimming in a  warm, heady sea of happiness. He doesn’t care…</p>
<p>His Master bends over him slightly to trace his lips along his temple and whisper hotly into his ear:</p>
<p>“Look at you, apprentice. Such a needy mess. All pliant and whiney like a stupid little slut you are.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Master. Sorry, Master.” Anakin utters his default response, breathless, completely on autopilot, trying to swallow down a moan and absolutely unable to think straight. Unable to wrap his mind around the fact that his perfectly polite Master has just called him a <em>slut</em> and made him almost come in his pants with that word alone.</p>
<p>With a knowing chuckle, Master straightens his back and grabs a fistful of Anakin’s hair, tugging slightly.</p>
<p>“Such a useless boy. Can’t even negotiate the simplest trade agreement,” he coos, his gentle tone in the most bizarre contrast with his harsh words. “Oh well, I guess you <em>are</em> only good for one thing after all.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Master. Yes! Please, please... I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I promise. <em>Please!</em>” Anakin begs deliriously, not even knowing for what exactly – <em>anything</em> really – tears streaming down his cheeks flushed scarlet from arousal mixed with humiliation.</p>
<p>“Oh, I know you will be,” his Master assures him with a fond smile, carding his hair gently. “It seems to be about the only thing I’ve managed to teach you, my silly little apprentice.”</p>
<p>“No, Master. Please don’t say that.” Anakin shudders in uncontrollable convulsions, as if electrocuted. “You’ve taught me so well. So well... I can do anything, <em>anything</em> for you.”</p>
<p>The little decorative items the room is so excessively full of – pillows and vases, pictures and lamps – it all suddenly starts flying around in a chaotic whirl, crashing into the walls with loud thuds the way it always happened when Anakin was agitated as a child.</p>
<p>Oh, this is bad. Very, <em>very</em> bad. If he is so out of control already, then–</p>
<p>“What is this, huh?” Master’s hand still tangled in Anakin’s hair tugs at it more roughly, <em>with</em> <em>emphasis</em>, holding him in place and preventing him from squirming in his seat. “Do you think you can impress me with your little tantrum, Ani?”</p>
<p>Anakin whimpers pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut and fighting back tears of humiliation.</p>
<p>“I can stop it just like this.” Master snaps his fingers, and the chaos dies, the objects stopping their vigorous whirling dance, freezing mid-air and falling down heavily.</p>
<p>His other hand slides from where it has been pressing down onto Anakin’s shoulder to the soft flesh of his throat, coming to rest there with a gentle but firm grip and squeezing just enough to remind Anakin that it is there.</p>
<p>Anakin’s whole body shudders when he notices that the usual softness of his Master’s eyes is now hiding something sharp and dangerous under the surface.</p>
<p>“And I can stop <em>you</em>.” The Jedi’s hold tightens around Anakin’s neck. “Just like this.”</p>
<p>Anakin lets out a loud gasp, his throat straining against his Master’s hold and pressing into it with desperate desire.</p>
<p>“Can <em>you</em> stop <em>me</em>, you silly boy?” Master challenges, squeezing Anakin’s neck in earnest now, as if trying to elicit a certain reaction.</p>
<p>But Anakin makes no move to free himself from his grip.</p>
<p>“No,” he wheezes, his fingernails digging into the armrests to prevent his hands from instinctively trying to fight back. “No, Master.”</p>
<p>“There you go,” the Jedi coos with a smile, visibly pleased. “Such a good boy when you want to be, Anakin.”</p>
<p>He lets him go and takes a little step back from the chair, the heavy black velvet of his robes rustling softly around him, and Anakin has to fight the urge to reach up and feel the necklace of purple marks that are <em>surely</em> adorning his neck now. But Master hasn’t said he can move his hands yet, so he only cranes his neck further back to look up into the dark depths of his Master’s eyes, and shifts impatiently in his seat, too ecstatic to have received such attention to be embarrassed even by their audience.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, right, the audience…</em>
</p>
<p>None of them makes a move to leave. None of them has the decency to look away when in one swift motion Master yanks Anakin by his hair and shoves him, face first, to bend over the table.</p>
<p>“I <em>always</em> want to be good for you, Master,” Anakin utters in a strangled gasp, his nails scratching the polished surface of the table as Master runs his hands down his flanks to capture his thighs in an iron grip. <em>I want to be everything you want me to be.</em></p>
<p>Master wraps his fingers around Anakin’s throat and pulls, making his back arch and bringing his head close enough to whisper into his ear.</p>
<p>“You always say that. But look what you are making your <em>kind, gentle </em>Master do to keep you in line, apprentice.”</p>
<p>At that, Anakin’s mind simply short-circuits, crackling and spitting sparks in all directions.</p>
<p>Does it mean what Anakin thinks it means, or is he just still high on his Master’s Light and delirious?</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, stars…</em>
</p>
<p>Can it be that he has finally tried his Master’s patience for long enough, and now he is finally going to get what he desires the most, even if as another punishment? He can’t believe this is actually happening – not even when his Master pulls up his robe and tunic and unceremoniously yanks his pants down.</p>
<p>Anakin whines – loudly, shamelessly, just like a slut his Master called him – when the cold air of the room touches the naked flesh of his ass.</p>
<p>Somehow, he already <em>knows</em> that his Master won’t be gentle: there will be no slow, careful preparation, no making sure he is comfortable enough, no offering to stop at any time. And Anakin is okay with that. More than okay, actually. That’s exactly the way he’s always wanted it, after all. Fast. <em>Angry</em>. Leaving no chance for him to say or do anything.</p>
<p>Because what could he possibly say?</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, Master, fuck me! Fuckmefuckmefuckme!</em>
</p>
<p>What could he possibly do if not just lie there and <em>take it</em>, crying and begging for more?</p>
<p>What else even is there?</p>
<p>Anakin doesn’t know.</p>
<p>But somehow, he knows that his Master will just spit between his spread cheeks and push inside him, hard enough to hurl him screaming into the table under the shocked stares of the Senators. He <em>knows</em> it even before it actually happens.</p>
<p>When he can breathe again, Anakin lets out a moan, long and luxuriant, and relaxes completely under his Master’s weight on him, as though his body has suddenly remembered what to do, as though it has done it hundreds of times before.</p>
<p>With the strangest feeling of déjà vu, his skin suddenly remembers his Master’s touch, gentle and firm at the same time.</p>
<p>His lips part around his little moans of pleasure with strange ease, without even a bit of shame or restraint, when his memory flashes with an echo of his Master’s voice.</p>
<p>
  <em>…Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Let me hear you scream for me…</em>
</p>
<p>Every cell in Anakin’s body feels like it already knows what it means to belong to his Master. Fully. Completely. As if they have done this already. But they haven’t.</p>
<p>
  <em>Have they?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you not paying attention, apprentice?” Master’s voice startles Anakin out of his strange daze.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin whines when his Master’s lips press – hot and wet – against the shell of his ear with a much too familiar caress.</p>
<p>“Please don’t stop. Please! I’ve been such a bad Padawan. Punish me, Master!” Anakin shivers uncontrollably, pressing his flushed, tear-stained face into the cool surface of the table when his Master’s breath burns his neck.</p>
<p>“This is how you planned it, isn’t it?” Master’s lips trace the line of the scar crossing Anakin’s temple and cheekbone, and ghost over his face, finishing with a quick nip to his ear. “You wanted to provoke me, make me lose my patience with you and be… like this. <em>Rough</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yes! Yes, Master!” Anakin almost howls in his ecstasy. “<em>Anything</em>, do anything to me, be anything just– Just don’t be <em>cold</em>.”</p>
<p>With a pleased smile, Master pushes down on Anakin’s neck, roughly pressing his face back to the table top and murmuring his praise in a low, honey-thick voice, “Yes, Ani. You are doing so well. Always take my cock like a good boy, don’t you?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Always?</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin’s mind freezes for a moment, stuck and pulsing with that word alone, but then...</p>
<p>“Ah... Ahh... Mhha...” Anakin gasps and whimpers as his Master pushes his way inside him again, setting a fast, merciless pace, fucking him in front of everyone while they watch, paralyzed with shock and horror.</p>
<p>It only then dawns on Anakin fully where he is. <em>How</em> he is.</p>
<p>“Ah, Master...” Anakin sobs, tears streaming down his cheeks burning with sudden shame of being so vulnerable and exposed, for everyone to see. “Why are they watching?”</p>
<p>The golden vambrace is pleasantly cool against the hot skin of Anakin’s clavicles when his Master’s arm wraps around his shoulders possessively while his other hand presses over his lips to silence his pathetic whimpering.</p>
<p>“Shhh, Ani,” the Jedi breathes out, pushing into him even deeper, his palm muffling his scream. “No need to be shy. Look at them. They all want to be us. Can’t you feel it in their feeble auras? Some of them want to be me, to have power, to be in charge. And some,” he slaps Anakin’s bare ass, making him mewl, “some of them want to be <em>you</em>. To be fucked like a cheap whore in front of everyone until they scream.”</p>
<p>“Mhh...” A wave of pleasure rips through Anakin in a full-body shudder when he suddenly realizes just how much of his desired validation he is getting: now everyone knows, everyone can see who he belongs to, who owns him entirely, who is the only one powerful enough to have him like this – all pliant and submissive, begging to be fucked…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bent over the table under the greedy, lustful stares of the Senators, Anakin can only lie there, focusing on the hard, punishing rhythm of his Master’s hips, open for him to take what he wants in any way he pleases – to fuck him senseless, and fill him up, and use him like a stupid, horny little slut. Because that’s what he is. A mindless doll, created for his Master’s pleasure. A boy toy, unable to think about anything past his Master’s huge dick filling up his hole so perfectly... And he loves it. He absolutely <em>loves </em>every second of it. He’s never wanted to be anything but <em>this</em>. Not a Jedi. Not a Sith. Just his Master’s dirty little whore begging for his cock day and night.</p>
<p>“Ah! Please, Master! Fuck me harder! Make me scream!” he cries out in pain and pleasure when his Master’s hand takes a fistful of his messy curls and pulls hard.</p>
<p>“But of course, dear one.” His Master’s voice is as indulgent and serene as ever, not affected at all, as if he isn’t fucking his Padawan into the table with such brutal force that Anakin can hardly breathe, choking on his cries and moans, barely even conscious under the onslaught of pleasure.</p>
<p>His hand grabs the flesh of Anakin’s hip hard enough to leave an imprint of bruises and pulls him back onto his dick.</p>
<p>Again. Again. Again.</p>
<p>“You are doing so good, Ani. Taking it so well.”</p>
<p>And Anakin weeps, drowning in the waves of happiness and agony, reaching backward to the only one who can save him.</p>
<p>“Please, Master, I beg you, I <em>beg</em> you. Please, let me come...”</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>.”</p>
<p>So simple. So ruthless. No emotion. No mercy.</p>
<p><em>Serenity</em>.</p>
<p>Anakin wants to scream from that alone.</p>
<p>One day he will <em>burn</em> it with his fire. Until there’s nothing left. Until there is only <em>passion</em>.</p>
<p>But for now, Anakin sends his Force presence to flow like lava, slow and heavy, into the waves of his Master’s roaring ocean only to vanish in a hissing cloud of steam.</p>
<p>“I love you, Master! I love you. I love you. I love you...” he chants like a prayer with every thrust of his Master’s hips deep inside him, feeling the triumph flooding the Jedi’s aura.</p>
<p>“Oh, my sweet little apprentice. So good and obedient for his Master. Such a <em>good boy</em> for me, Ani...” Master praises him as he reaches out with his soul and grabs Anakin’s, engulfing him with his white-hot spirit and piercing him like a blade, sinking right down to his core.</p>
<p>Their Force signatures entwine in a maelstrom of flames and roiling waves crushing desperately against each other.</p>
<p>More than just pleasure.</p>
<p>Greater than just happiness.</p>
<p>
  <em>Infinite joy.</em>
</p>
<p>And Anakin chokes on his scream…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He must have blacked out for a moment because when his vision finally clears, what Anakin sees through his dreamy languor is the Senators clutching at their throats and falling to the floor with a cacophony of wheezing, choking sounds.</p>
<p>“Master?” Anakin turns in the Jedi’s arms gently pulling him up, his expression utterly bewildered.</p>
<p>“You haven’t held me back?” he gasps, eyes huge with amazement and disbelief. “You’ve allowed my Darkness to strangle them?”</p>
<p>“You didn’t think I would allow anyone to raise their voice at you and live, did you, darling?” Master smiles graciously but looks genuinely surprised by Anakin’s confusion. “Besides, you know they were all corrupt politicians ready to turn a blind eye to their own people’s suffering if the price was right, and I thought you had deserved a reward for being so good, my dear.”</p>
<p>His Master’s hand ruffles Anakin’s hair affectionately, and Anakin almost purrs, butting into the caressing palm, that strange feeling of inexplicable uneasiness he has been having completely forgotten.</p>
<p>“But you will still control  me again, right?” Anakin looks suddenly scared, a deep frown betraying his worry. “You won’t let me hurt those who don’t deserve it, will you, Master?”</p>
<p>He looks pleadingly into his Master’s eyes.</p>
<p>“Of course, dear one.” His Master’s lips press softly to Anakin’s forehead. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you, just like I always have.”</p>
<p>“Oh, thank you, thank you, Master!” Anakin throws himself around his neck with a relieved exhale, and they stay like that, in peace, for a long moment.</p>
<p>Then Master draws back slightly, prompting Anakin to let go.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want to let go. He whines unhappily, reluctantly releasing his hold and moving to straighten his clothes.</p>
<p>“What do I do now, Master?” he wonders, looking at the distorted bodies on the floor.</p>
<p>“Same as always.” Master gives him a wry smile, turning to walk away. “Use this to our advantage.”</p>
<p>And just like that, in a strange haze, as if from outside of his own body, Anakin watches himself sit down into his high-back chair again and smirk when Deputy Senators enter the conference room, looking in sheer horror at how the dead bodies of their predecessors are being carried outside by the guards.</p>
<p>They won’t be as stubborn.</p>
<p>Anakin sees himself smile, and his eyes glimmer. <em>Golden</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then he wakes up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wakes up, sweating and breathless, feeling disoriented and burning hot all over. Painfully aroused despite the sticky mess already covering his rumpled sheets.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p>
<p>Just a dream then. <em>Just a wet dream…</em></p>
<p>He remembers every moment, every second of it with sharp clearness of each detail. He doesn’t believe he will ever be able to think about anything else. He doesn’t know if he will ever be able to open his eyes and see anything else, other than the wanton, scandalous, <em>delicious</em> pictures forever burned on the inside of his eyelids.</p>
<p>The world where his Master is willing to give him more than a chaste forehead kiss.</p>
<p>The world where Anakin’s fire burns even through his impenetrable shields of serenity.</p>
<p>The world where Anakin finally gets to be what he wants to be.</p>
<p>But it was all just a dream. Wasn’t real. Will never be real.</p>
<p>Except...</p>
<p>He is now old enough to know that the Jedi don’t have dreams. They have <em>visions</em>.</p>
<p>Anakin bites his palm until it bleeds just to muffle the scream that’s clawing its way out of his throat from his sudden unbearable agitation.</p>
<p>Was it a vision of the real future?</p>
<p>
  <em>Dear Force, please, please let it be real!</em>
</p>
<p>It’s not impossible, right?</p>
<p>Master looked a bit different. There were those little details that kept bugging Anakin’s subconsciousness, but he was too busy with...<em>other things</em> to put his finger on it. Yes, now that he can concentrate, he actually remembers his Master’s strange clothes. Black velvet and gold. Very nice. Very expensive. Just like his elegant Master deserves.</p>
<p>Anakin’s own clothes weren't much different, but his hair was a little longer. And he had a scar. And he had...eyes of gold.</p>
<p>Does that mean he will become a Sith after all? That’s what he had always feared: how angry and disappointed his Master would be if he fell. He thought he would denounce and abandon him. Or even fight and kill him. But that Master, from his vision, didn’t seem to care much about how far his incorrigible Padawan had fallen.</p>
<p>And he <em>fucked</em> him. Held him down and made him take it just like Anakin had always dreamed he would. And it was so good, <em>so good. </em>And the best of it all… The best of it all is that <em>always</em>. It means Anakin’s strange feeling of déjà vu wasn’t for nothing. It means that what he saw wasn’t the <em>only</em> time they did it. It means he was his Master’s <em>lover</em>. Or he <em>will</em> be? He <em>could</em> be? Maybe? Possibly?</p>
<p>Anakin can’t hold back a moan as the images come rushing back into his mind, drowning out every other thought. Just Master’s hand in his hair, just his dick pushing inside him – relentlessly, deliciously – and his voice telling him how good and obedient he is.</p>
<p>Anakin doesn’t even have time to reach down and touch himself when his orgasm crashes into him, fueled by the memory alone.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, Force…</em>
</p>
<p>It doesn’t even matter if he is going to have Sith eyes because he will never make himself lift them and look at his Master ever again anyway...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, many thanks to my amazing beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Burn for him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All Padawans dream of becoming Jedi Knights – glorious and shining in the Force.</p><p>Correction: all Padawans <em>but one</em>.</p><p>Anakin Skywalker doesn’t want to become a Jedi Knight. In fact, he fears it. Fears it so much that he pushes towards it twice as hard to cover up for his unwillingness and simultaneously wanting it to be done and over with so that his torture will finally end.</p><p>His fear is obvious – painfully so: he is afraid that when he is a Knight and not a Padawan anymore, his Bond with his Master will be broken and he will be left alone. All alone in the Dark.</p><p>He never speaks to his Master about his fears, of course. He never tells him he doesn’t want to go through with the Initiation, so when the time comes, he passes his Trials, and the day he is to attain Knighthood, he follows his Master into the Council Chamber like a lamb to the slaughter. Or maybe not exactly: the proverbial lamb at least is blissfully unaware of what is awaiting it – Anakin doesn’t have such luxury. He knows he is going to his own execution.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“An honor,” they state. “The highest of rewards.”</p><p><em>The one you don’t deserve</em>, hangs in the air, unsaid.</p><p>The Council members don’t even need to speak – their faces scrutinizing him like some curious bug tell Anakin everything without words. They are looking at him exactly like they did almost ten years ago. They don’t even bother to hide how much they despise and fear him and yet, there is also something greedy in their eyes. They hope to possess his power. <em>Still</em>. After all these years. They think they have the right to it. They think they <em>own</em> him. But Anakin is his Master’s and nobody else’s. All his power, all his devotion is not to the Order – it is to Obi-Wan Kenobi, to the only person in the room who is looking at him with that unbearable fondness.</p><p><em>He is so proud of me</em>, Anakin suddenly realizes, and it cuts the ground from under his feet.</p><p>How can he let his Master down now?</p><p>How dare he even think of asking – <em>begging</em> – him to stop now and not to cut his Padawan braid?</p><p>No, he can’t do that. He can’t be a coward. Can’t be a failure. Can’t…</p><p>Anakin doesn’t even kneel when the ceremony demands it – he just falls to the ground gracelessly because his legs refuse to hold him anymore. He looks up at his Master, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy with unshed tears, and his lips quiver pathetically, trying to hold the words in.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t do it, Master! Please don’t cut my braid! Don’t break our Bond! Please!</em>
</p><p>He isn’t actually begging <em>aloud, </em>not in the room full of Council members, but the Force around him must be <em>screaming</em> in agony of his despair because in the next moment, his Master suddenly lowers his blade and staggers back, as if slapped.          </p><p>“Anakin…” he whispers, shaken and dismayed, and Anakin’s terror finally bursts through the surface too.</p><p>“No, I don’t want it!” he shouts, toppling over onto his back and scrambling to crawl backward, away from the blade threatening to cut his braid. “Don’t let them do this to us, Master!”</p><p>The Jedi freezes, his face mirroring Anakin’s own horrified expression. His lightsaber falls to the floor, extinguished. Master raises his palms in a pacifying manner, offering them to Anakin as a sign that he is safe.</p><p><em>It’s okay, dear one</em>, the warm gold of his presence in the Force reassures Anakin with the softest of touches. <em>I won’t hurt you.</em></p><p>“I know you won’t, Master,” Anakin whispers with a weak smile, but the shadow of desperation freezes in his eyes when he looks past his Master and behind his back. “But they will.”</p><p>His Master doesn’t have time to react when Masters Plo Koon and Kit Fisto grab his arms from behind and drag him away from his Padawan.</p><p>“No!” Anakin shouts, aiming a Force wave to send them flying backward into the window panes.</p><p>They crash into the transparisteel with pained groans, but Saesee Tiin and Ki-Adi-Mundi immediately take their place, trying to hold his resisting Master back while Shaak Ti rushes to <em>almost</em> press the blade of her lightsaber to his throat.</p><p>“Don’t interfere, Obi-Wan!” she urges. “You <em>know</em> it’s for his own good.”</p><p>But the Jedi obviously doubts that because he keeps trying to wriggle out of the grip on him, and Anakin screams again but doesn’t dare to attempt another Force push, not with the blade so close to his Master’s neck.</p><p>“Command your Padawan to yield, Obi-Wan.”</p><p>It’s Mace Windu’s voice giving the order, and Anakin whips his head around, his expression absolutely <em>murderous</em>, to find him right behind his back, his purple blade at the ready.</p><p>“No! Don’t touch him!” His Master’s voice is scared for the first time in Anakin’s life. He keeps thrashing against the grip on his arms despite the lightsaber in such dangerous proximity to his face.</p><p>“Calm down, Kenobi!” Saesee Tiin barks. “Remember your own Initiation. You of all people should know he is not the first to resist the separation, and he won’t be the last. But it <em>has to</em> be done. There should be no attachment. That’s our way!”</p><p>“Don’t make it any harder than it has to be, Obi-Wan,” Shaak Ti chimes in, her voice almost begging, but it does nothing to persuade the Jedi to stop fighting against their restraining hold.</p><p>“No, please let him go! Don’t do it against his will! He’s not ready yet. Please!”</p><p>“Surrender and let me cut your braid, Skywalker,” Mace Windu growls, ignoring Obi-Wan’s pleas and pointing his lightsaber to Anakin’s chest. “Don’t make me hurt your Master to persuade you, boy.”</p><p>There isn’t even a moment of hesitation before Anakin raises his hands and scrambles to his feet.</p><p>“I surrender! I surrender! Just don’t hurt my Master! Please!” he begs, watching a smug smirk distort Windu’s features into an ugly grimace of triumph.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>…” Anakin whispers brokenly, clenching his fists at his sides and pressing his eyes shut.</p><p>He can feel the heat of Windu’s lightsaber close to his neck. He can hear the buzz of the plasma. And it takes all of his willpower to stay still and not to recoil in horror and disgust.</p><p>Time screeches to a halt around him. In silence. </p><p>And then it unfreezes and jerks forward again when something hot and wet splashes onto Anakin’s neck. A metallic smell rushes into his nostrils, and he screams in agonizing pain one last time before he falls down to the floor and into darkness.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Blood.</em>
</p><p>Dear Force! There is so much blood…</p><p>There are shouts, and screams, and panic all around him, but Obi-Wan feels like he is moving through thick honey, the world slowing all around him and blurring around the edges as he dashes forward to kneel beside his Padawan’s unmoving body lying in a pool of blood.</p><p>Scarlet is soaking through his white ceremonial garb in mesmerizing patterns, and Obi-Wan watches, watches, unable to look away, unable to blink. Unable to help.</p><p>Deep down, under the thick, sticky layer of panic, Obi-Wan’s consciousness is suffocating and can only cough up one thought.</p><p>
  <em>Save him.</em>
</p><p>But how? How? There is so much blood. So much blood…</p><p>But why? <em>Oh, Force, why? </em>There is no wound. There is no cut. There isn’t even a scratch on the boy. How can there be all this blood? How can it be streaming like a crimson war banner around Anakin’s pallid skin?</p><p>Obi-Wan’s hands unthinkingly cradle his Padawan’s head. His palm brushes over the spot where Anakin’s braid was just a few moments ago…</p><p>
  <em>Oh, stars!</em>
</p><p>Obi-Wan reaches out in the Force, to where their shining, glorious Bond used to be, but there is nothing there. Nothing but an open, lacerated wound bleeding out into the endless Darkness…</p><p> </p><p>Every great power has a weakness. Anakin has a built-in weakness too – his unhealthy dependency. And Obi-Wan is the one who <em>installed</em> it there, so now he is the one to blame for everything.</p><p>He could have fought the other Jedi holding him back. He could have used the Force against them, the very best of the Order. He could have defeated them all regardless – he is stronger than they are, after all. The Force is with him. Always. Just like the Daughter promised. But he didn’t do anything. His mind was too shocked and reeling to think clearly.</p><p>Looking back, it was really stupid, so stupid of him to expect anything other from Anakin than what happened, but the boy had been doing so well these last couple of months, ever since that forceful Light infusion… He had seemed so <em>eager</em> to finally become a Knight that Obi-Wan had let himself be fooled.</p><p>He should have known his Padawan would fight against their separation. Of course he did. How could he possibly not? How could he just let someone break the Bond that was deeper and stronger than any Training Bond in Jedi history? The Bond that was there even before they met. The Bond that was calling them from across the Galaxy to come closer to each other. The Bond that was <em>piercing</em> through their souls instead of just coiling around them… And that is why it didn’t break. It could not be broken. It had to be <em>torn out</em> along with the core of Anakin’s soul, leaving only the empty shell oozing agonizing pain and anguish.</p><p>Yes, Obi-Wan should have <em>definitely</em> seen it all coming. Should not have been surprised. But he was. He <em>was.</em> And not so much with Anakin’s reaction as with his own: he didn’t want their Bond to be severed either.</p><p>It was just ridiculous: he suddenly felt like eleven years ago, like that time when he himself was a Padawan and was standing before the Council with his own Master, begging them to keep their Force Bond for just a little longer. They refused then, of course. And in the long run, it was for the best, Obi-Wan knows. And yet, today he suddenly felt the urge to rebel against the Council once again. As a Master this time.</p><p>It was forgivable when he was still just a foolish Padawan, but what is his excuse now?</p><p>Why did he want to go against the Code his whole life was based on, against the Order he had vowed to serve, against his own experience and belief that breaking the Bond was, in the end, the right thing to do?</p><p>Why did he want to keep this connection between himself and his Padawan so badly that his mind short-circuited and became overwhelmed and bewildered to the point where he was too dizzy and helpless to actually do anything?</p><p>He still doesn’t have the answer – just the result of his own hesitation and inability to choose between the Order and his own selfish desire to <em>keep</em> his Padawan. All to himself.</p><p>Because of that, there is blood flooding the floor of the Council Chamber. A shameful stain on the very heart of the Jedi Order and everything it stands for. They had no right to do this to Anakin – to <em>his</em> Anakin – and he should have stopped them. Should have thrown aside his ludicrous ideas of duty and loyalty to the Order. His only loyalty and duty should have been to<em> his Padawan</em>.</p><p>But maybe it is not too late. Maybe…</p><p>But there is so much blood. So much blood…</p><p>Scarlet stains Obi-Wan’s previously pristine Jedi attire as he carries his barely alive Padawan to the Halls of Healing.</p><p>Scarlet suffuses Obi-Wan’s hands as he reaches out in the Force, to where the gaping wound of Anakin’s being is wailing.</p><p>Scarlet…</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin opens his eyes. Or maybe he doesn’t. He can’t tell. Either way, there is only Darkness around him. And he can’t see.</p><p>
  <em>He can’t see.</em>
</p><p>The blue steel of his eyes can’t pierce the pitch-black velvet surrounding him. Not anymore. Not when there is no more guiding star to light his way. He is all alone. He is in so much pain. And he screams, screams into the emptiness, but no one is there to hear him. No one is there to help him. No one to stop him as he falls deeper and deeper into the sharp-toothed mouth of the Dark.</p><p>Anakin feels adrift, lost within the opaque waters of the Force, buffeting him with its boisterous waves as they roar and roil around him, wishing to engulf and consume him. But he is still trying, still clinging to his only hope – to reach his Master in the Force, to feel his soothing presence, even if for the last time.</p><p>“Master!” Anakin shouts, and the Force shouts with him.</p><p><strong><em>Master! Master! Master!</em></strong> the Darkness echoes.</p><p>And Anakin thanks it. He thanks it for having allowed him to see the Light all those years ago. And for lamenting with him now, reverberating with his sorrow.</p><p>He had been following the train of his Master’s cloak for so long, his eyes never leaving the radiant figure in front of him, that he never thought to look around, never wanted to see the Darkness that surrounded him, never wished to feel its hungry eyes watching him.</p><p>But they were still watching.</p><p>They are following every movement of his convulsing body even now. Anakin knows. He feels them even though he can’t see.</p><p>He can’t see.</p><p>And he screams, and cries, and wails in helplessness and grief.</p><p>How can he find his Master in the Dark if he can’t see?</p><p>How?</p><p>It seems like time stretches into eternity – an eternity of pain and misery. </p><p>No Master. </p><p>No Light. </p><p>No hope.</p><p>There is only Darkness for him from now on.</p><p>Perhaps, it’s easier to just give up now. Let his soul sink to the bottom of the black ocean. Let the toothy monsters living there just eat him and end his miserable existence.</p><p>Anakin closes his eyes, ready to die.</p><p>But then suddenly, in the chaos of his own ragged breaths, Anakin hears a distant echo of a whisper.</p><p>“…Steel can’t penetrate the black velvet… But <em>gold</em> can...”</p><p>The voice sounds familiar, so gentle and kind, and Anakin listens to it, just like he once swore he would.</p><p>He stops fighting – he topples backward into the dark waters of pain and allows the heat of molten yellow metal to pour into his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The boy looks drugged within an inch of his life, but at least he isn’t screaming. Or maybe he just <em>can’t</em> scream anymore: his voice must be broken after so many hours of agony.</p><p>Wrapped in a blanket, he is lying there like a pale shadow, his eyes dark, bottomless gaps under the glassy cover of his empty gaze.</p><p>At times, it seems like he comes to for a few fleeting moments, jerking upright on his cot.</p><p>“Master, I can’t see…” he sputters and gasps slightly before slipping into unconsciousness again. “Master…”</p><p>“I’m here, Ani,” Obi-Wan whispers, squeezing his former Padawan’s cold hand in his own. “I am with you, my dear.”</p><p>
  <em>Always.</em>
</p><p>Day after day after day.</p><p>
  <em>I can’t see, Master…</em>
</p><p>Obi-Wan can’t see either. He feels so lost, so overwhelmed by his grief that he no longer sees the world as clearly as he used to.</p><p>There is no Light or Darkness anymore. Everything seems dull, colorless, floating by in the muddy waters of the Force.</p><p>Somewhere under the bloodstained surface, Anakin’s soul is drowning, choking on its own pain and sorrow, and Obi-Wan can’t pull him out the way he usually did. Not this time.</p><p>This time, Anakin is all alone. Obi-Wan can’t reach him because he can’t find him in the crimson-stained waters of the Force. Not without their Bond.</p><p>
  <em>I can’t see, Master…</em>
</p><p>“…golden eyes shall never lie…” a line from a younglings’ tale suddenly springs to Obi-Wan’s mind. “…all those eyes are meant to see, is the Dark Side of the Force…”</p><p>And that is exactly what Anakin needs right now – to be able to see in the Darkness that surrounds him and find his way back. It is the way to save him. It’s not the Jedi way but it’s the <em>only</em> way.</p><p>Well, it seems the Son was right after all, and Obi-Wan really is the one to push Anakin to the Dark Side.</p><p>It’s okay though. His stupid principles are not worth Anakin’s life. Nothing is.</p><p>So Obi-Wan whispers into the boy’s ear – just a few words – and watches his voice pour copper and gold into Anakin’s irises.</p><p>
  <em>Can you see me now, Ani? Come to me!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin jerks awake, gasping for air.</p><p>He feels like he has just emerged from under water: he is wet and cold, his lungs are burning, but he can finally open his eyes and see…</p><p>“Master!” he breathes out in relief.</p><p>“I can see you, Master! I can see you! I can see you!” his lips chant, but barely any sound comes out of his mouth.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Where is your voice, Anakin?</em> </strong>
</p><p>He frowns in confusion before his hand shoots up to clutch at his neck in a panicked gesture. His palm slides up and down the column of his throat, the trembling fingers trying to feel any damage.</p><p>There is none.</p><p>Then why can’t he speak?</p><p>Why does he still smell the nauseating stench of blood all around him?</p><p>And why is he in so much pain?</p><p>Anakin suddenly feels dizzy and suffocated under the pressing wave of panic. He scrambles to lift himself up on his hands, but his Master’s palm presses against his chest, his fingers spreading over his solar plexus, urging him to stop and lie back down.</p><p>“Shh, Anakin. Calm yourself. You are <em>okay</em>. You are just <em>fine</em>,” the honeyed voice coaxes, but Anakin doesn’t believe it for the first time in his life. Because there are wet trails of tears still glistening on his Master’s cheeks, and they speak louder than any words ever could.</p><p>“Master, what…” Anakin croaks and, as if in slow motion, watches his hand reach out to brush away the wet streak.</p><p>His Master just lets out a deep sigh before his hand catches Anakin’s halfway and, in a second, Anakin is finally pulled into his Master’s arms.</p><p>It isn’t one of those tender comforting hugs his Master normally graces him with – no, this embrace is desperate, filled with fear and relief all at once, and Anakin isn’t sure if it is him or his Master who is trembling all over. Or maybe it’s the both of them.</p><p>“Your voice will heal soon,” Master reassures Anakin in a soft whisper, squeezing him so tightly he can barely breathe. “You will be alright, I promise. Just… Just close your eyes, Ani.”</p><p>“Master?” Anakin utters in confusion.</p><p>
  <em>Why does his Master want him to close his eyes when he has just gotten his sight back, when he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of him ever again?</em>
</p><p>“Please, Ani,” his Master’s shaking voice urges somewhere into his temple, “close them now. I need you to do it for me, okay? Please close your eyes and pretend to be asleep. The healer could be here any minute now…”</p><p>“Okay,” Anakin nods, lowering his eyelashes and trembling all over. He doesn’t protest even though he doesn’t understand what is happening to him. He doesn’t understand what is happening to his Master. He has a very bad feeling about this, but he trusts his Master to deal with everything the way he sees fit.</p><p>After all, he is a big boy now. He doesn’t need to be coddled. He…</p><p>“I’m scared, Master…” The whine falls off his lips, unbidden, as he clutches his Master’s palm in his own with desperate desire to maintain contact.</p><p>“No, no, don’t be.” Anakin can almost hear a warm smile in his Master’s voice as his other palm strokes his tousled hair. “It’s okay. I got you now, dear one. You are safe. You will be fine. But please, don’t open your eyes just yet. We can’t let anyone see them.”</p><p>“Why? What’s wrong with my eyes, Master?” Anakin tenses under his Master’s touch in terror.</p><p>“Nothing. There is nothing wrong.” His Master’s voice is gentle as he coaxes, but Anakin can still hear it trembling, and it makes him shudder too.</p><p>“Master?”</p><p>“Your eyes are beautiful, Ani.” Anakin’s lashes flutter against his suddenly burning cheeks when his Master’s lips press soft kisses against his closed eyelids. “But no one must see them like this.”</p><p>“Like–” Anakin’s breath suddenly gets stuck in his throat at the caress. “Like what?”</p><p>There is long, terrifying silence before his Master finally speaks, and Anakin doesn’t dare to even breathe while he awaits the answer.</p><p>“Like liquid gold.” The whisper burns Anakin’s ear, and he feels like that very gold is pouring into his veins, bright and hot and unbearable.</p><p>“No…” he mewls brokenly, pressing his eyes shut and covering them with his hands, but tears stream from under the closed eyelids anyway.</p><p>
  <em>Liquid gold.</em>
</p><p>He thought – he <em>hoped</em> – that it was just a fever dream…</p><p>“Please, Master,” Anakin utters between his wet sobs, scrambling to sit up again and clutching desperately at the man’s Jedi robes. “Don’t let them kill me. Don’t let them… I’m still your sweet little boy. I’m still your Ani… Please…”</p><p>“Shh, honey…” A gentle hand caresses his curls. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I will protect you this time, I swear.”</p><p>Anakin hears steps and voices in the distance. They are getting louder and louder with every passing second, and Anakin forces himself to let go of his Master and fall back onto his pillow.</p><p>He listens to his Master telling the healers that his former Padawan hasn’t woken up yet. That he isn’t any better today than he was yesterday. That he is still on the verge of death.</p><p>And Anakin basks in the warm feeling of his Master’s lies wrapping around him like a protective cocoon. Like a warm blanket.</p><p>He pretends to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>As soon as Master manages to get rid of the healers, Anakin’s eyes snap open again.</p><p>Huge. Desperate. <em>Golden</em>.</p><p>“Master, what are we going to do? We can’t hide it forever. The Council will soon find out that I’m a Si–”</p><p>A palm pressed to his lips doesn’t let Anakin finish.</p><p>“Hush now,” his Master warns, giving him a pointed look. “Don’t say it so loudly.”</p><p>“Mhm?” Anakin’s muffled response makes the Jedi jerk his hand back when the wet lips have grazed his palm.</p><p>“Anakin, I–” His usually smooth and rich voice suddenly breaks, making Anakin startle. “I am so very sorry about what I let them do to you. It is me who should have lost his sight. <em>I</em> was the one <em>blind</em>, after all. I thought you wanted to be a Knight. I thought you were ready to let go of your old Master’s hand…”</p><p>“Master, don’t,” Anakin interrupts. “Just <em>don’t.</em>”</p><p>He doesn’t really know what he means exactly.</p><p>Don’t apologize?</p><p>Don’t blame yourself?</p><p>Don’t fool yourself, thinking I could ever let go of you?</p><p> </p><p>Anakin reaches out to pull his Master into another embrace.</p><p>“No, Anakin.” The Jedi shakes his head, drawing back, his expression grave. “This is serious. They couldn’t break our Bond, so they just tore it out. Along with a part of your very being. Your soul–” Master’s voice falters, and he has to take a deep, shuddering breath before he can continue. “Your soul almost bled out in my arms.”</p><p>The Jedi stares at his palms in horror as though he can still see the blood – hot and red – dripping from them even now.</p><p>“I– Anakin, I’ve been trying to find you in the Force <em>for weeks</em>, but without the Bond…” Anakin can hear pain breaking his Master’s usually deep and mesmerizing voice.</p><p>“I tried to call for you, to guide you back to consciousness, but blinded by your grief and pain, your eyes couldn’t see me. And I– I found a way…” Master covers his face with his hands. “I pushed you to the Dark Side, and you <em>fell</em>.”</p><p>“Master…” The shimmering yellow irises are staring at him in utter shock. “You set me on fire... I can feel it burning all around me…”</p><p>“Yes. I committed the greatest crime of all,” Master repents, lowering his head in shame and regret. “I was selfish. I gave you eyes of gold so that you could see through the veil of Darkness and come back to me, Anakin.”</p><p>“You went against the Council, Master? Against everything the Jedi Code dictates? For me?” Somehow, out of everything that happened, <em>that</em> is the part Anakin is struggling to believe in.</p><p>“I only regret I didn’t do it sooner, dear one.” A sad smile makes the man’s eyes even softer than usual. “I don’t expect you can ever forgive me.”</p><p>It is so typical of Obi-Wan Kenobi to blame himself for every bad decision the Council has ever made regarding Anakin’s fate. He is so obviously struggling with his Jedi morals, but Anakin can see that he is not yet ready to let go of everything he was raised to believe in, however wrong and twisted it turned out to be.</p><p>Who could have ever imagined that Obi-Wan Kenobi, <em>the perfect Jedi</em>, would be <em>questioning his faith</em>?</p><p>And Anakin is scared shitless that his Master might come to the conclusion that his weak, pathetic Padawan isn’t worth it after all. </p><p>No, he <em>cannot</em> let that happen. Absolutely not. He will do anything to tip the scales in his own favor.</p><p>He suddenly lunges forward, to where his Master is sitting, perched on the edge of his cot, and drops himself into his lap, straddling him and cradling his face in his hands.</p><p>“I will forgive you, Master,” Anakin promises, whispering feverishly almost into his Master’s lips. “Just tell me you care for me <em>more</em> than you care for the Order. Tell me, Master. <em>Promise</em> me…”</p><p>
  <em>…that you love me more.</em>
</p><p><em>Choose me over the Order! Choose me over the Code! </em>The Force howls around them with Anakin’s urgent need.<em>Choose me!</em></p><p>“I care for you more than anything, Ani.”</p><p>Anakin takes a shaky breath. He can’t believe Master has actually said it. Confessed to the biggest sin any Jedi could commit. <em>Attachment.</em></p><p>His serene, unattainable Master – the “Saint Kenobi” – a<em> Renegade! </em>Impossible!</p><p>“Prove it, Master,” Anakin demands like a petulant child. “Defy the Council. <em>Bond</em> with me again.”</p><p>“Anakin…” The Jedi looks stunned. He obviously wasn’t expecting anything like that. “That’s…<em>unwise</em>.”</p><p>“I don’t care!” Anakin exclaims, his pale fingers digging into his Master’s shoulders with a death grip. “You can’t just leave me like this. I <em>need</em> you, Master. I can’t live without you.”</p><p>
  <em>And I will do anything to keep you with me.</em>
</p><p>Anakin drops all of his shields, leaving himself bare and exposed to his Master completely.</p><p>
  <em>Sink into me.</em>
</p><p>And Obi-Wan does.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan steps into the Force with Anakin, following his desperate plea.</p><p>The Darkness howls, <em>victorious</em>, when his star falls into the black waters, breaking the mirror of the surface into a million of droplets and illuminating them – turning them into a scattering of stars across the dark horizon of the Force.</p><p>“All this water…and I am still burning in the flame you sparked, Master.” A black shadow of Anakin’s soul holds out his palm to Obi-Wan. “Step into the fire you started with me. Feed the flame with your Light.”</p><p>And Obi-Wan takes the proffered hand, his skin bursting aflame at the touch. But he doesn’t jerk his hand away. Doesn’t let go. Instead, he takes a step forward. <em>Into the fire.</em></p><p>Like a moth to the flame, for all these years, his Light has been drawn to his apprentice’s Darkness. Even now they are being pulled towards each other by the Force like separated pieces wishing to become a whole again.</p><p>It is a Trial. For them both. They have been given an impossible chance to mend what was broken beyond repair. And Obi-Wan doesn’t even try to fool himself: he <em>knows</em> that they will either succeed, or they will <em>die</em>, swallowed by the dark flames. There is no other possible outcome. And he is still willing to risk it. He is willing to follow his Padawan into the fire. Into the flame where they will melt into one. Or burn.</p><p>The pain of the inferno is sweet on Obi-Wan’s lips as they open around a scream echoing in unison with Anakin’s. They are blazing with live sparks in the fire as furious as their own souls. The tongues of the flame are dancing around them, bringing together their Darkness and Light, fusing their power and faith into one. Into Balance.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Their Bond bursts open around them once more, all-consuming and overwhelming.</p><p>A wave of heat burning hotter than the flame where they have forged it races through Anakin, filling his every cell with liquid fire. </p><p>Anakin can feel his Master in every part of him: around him, inside his body and soul, owning him and shielding him from everything else.</p><p>A tendril of his Master’s Force Signature hovers over Anakin’s shoulder, uselessly trying to find the braid to which it could attach itself.</p><p>But the braid isn’t there, and the string of Light is already starting to withdraw. But Anakin cannot let it happen.</p><p>Who needs stupid braids anyway?</p><p>“No! Stay!” He grabs the tendril with his bare hands and, without missing a beat, coils it around his throat, attaching himself to his Master once and for all.</p><p>Yeah! That’s how <em>real Bonds</em> are made!</p><p>Anakin jerks his chin up, grinning at his Master, proud of his creative solution.</p><p>“Anakin…” his Master breathes out with awe, absolutely mesmerized. “You should see yourself right now. Your soul has healed. You’re <em>glowing</em>.”</p><p>But Anakin doesn’t need to look to know that it’s true.</p><p>He can feel the warm weight binding his throat; he can sense the smooth, velvety texture riding against his skin. He will never be able to forget it’s <em>there</em>. Not ever.</p><p>Anakin’s breath catches at the very thought and he gasps, gasps, hyper aware of the way his Master’s presence tightens around his neck, straining the makeshift leash.</p><p>One wrong move and Master could yank it, making Anakin fall to his knees. Or he could just strangle him. <em>At any moment.</em></p><p><em>Say it,</em> the order rings in Anakin’s brain.</p><p>“I am yours, <em>Master</em>.”</p><p>Searing heat spreads through Anakin’s body when he finally <em>fully</em> grasps the power his Master now wields over him.</p><p>Or maybe it’s just the intensity of his Master’s gaze that sets his body aflame. Again.</p><p>Anakin doesn’t care. If this is his hellfire – he <em>wants</em> to burn.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“What about my eyes, Master?” Anakin slurs, falling back onto his pillows, breathless and lightheaded with bubbling, tingling euphoria.</p><p>Together. <em>Together</em>. He won’t let them be apart ever again. Not ever.</p><p>Anakin can feel his Master’s hot breath on his cheek when he leans over him to take a closer look.</p><p>“We can’t get rid of the Sith gold for real, but faith can go a long way. Maybe I could compel you into believing…” Master falls silent, frowning, deep in thought.</p><p>Anakin frowns too, in confusion.</p><p>“Master?”</p><p>The Jedi closes his eyes for a moment with a long-suffering sigh. Then he waves his hand before Anakin’s stunned face. “You are still a Jedi.”</p><p>“I am a Jedi,” Anakin echoes dumbly, his mind suddenly numb and in a strange amber-colored haze.</p><p>“You don’t have Sith golden eyes.” His Master’s voice sounds strangely convincing, reverberating through the echoing void in Anakin’s head. “You have another distinctive feature instead.”</p><p>“I don’t have Sith eyes, I have another feature...” It’s very, very easy for Anakin to agree when his Master is leaning over him, <em>so</em> <em>close</em>, his finger tracing Anakin’s right brow absentmindedly as he prompts, “A mole, perhaps, or a tattoo.”</p><p>“<em>I am a Jedi</em>,” Anakin whispers emphatically like a child trusting someone with a big, important secret. “I don’t have Sith eyes.”</p><p>Obeying the power of his Master’s hypnotic suggestion, the liquid gold drains from Anakin’s eyes and pours under his skin, shifting impatiently, trying to find a way out.</p><p>“I am a Jedi. I have another feature.”</p><p>Anakin blinks, blinks furiously, his mind trying to wrap around the alien thought.</p><p>“I am a Jedi.”</p><p>Perhaps, it would be easier if he had believed in it from the start.</p><p>“I am a Jedi.”</p><p>Too bad he hadn’t. Lucky him, though: his Master’s faith is, yet again, enough for the both of them.</p><p>“I am a Jedi.”</p><p>An angry red line traces down Anakin’s temple through his right brow, past the corner of his eye and to his cheekbone, following his Master’s fingertips on his skin.</p><p>“<em>A</em> <em>scar</em>,” the Jedi breathes out, jerking his hand away, a pained expression flashing briefly on his face before it is hastily covered with a look of resignation. “How very symbolic. A reminder of what I did to you…”</p><p>“No, Master! You have it all wrong!” Anakin hurries to explain, his eyes blue again and dark with dismay, as he reaches to catch his Master’s palm. “It’s not a scar of loss. It’s a manifestation of our new Bond. Something tangible to remind us of it.”</p><p>“But, Anakin, dear, it could be anywhere else. Does it really have to mark your face?” Master’s eyes close slowly in regret as he gently traces the red line on Anakin’s skin.</p><p>“Yes, Master. I want it like this,” Anakin nods insistently, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to his Master’s palm on his cheek. “Every time you look at me, I want you to remember this day, this moment when we forged our Bond. Of steel and gold. I want you to know that I am <em>honored</em> to wear the proof of that. And I <em>am</em> what you want me to be. I am a <em>Jedi</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, many thanks to my amazing beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Pledge yourself to him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello there!<br/>It has been brought to my attention that in the previous chapter the Council’s behavior as a whole and their insistence on making Anakin a Knight in particular may have looked a little strange. So, just in case, I thought I should take a moment and remind you that this work is a Canon Divergence AU (please see the foreword for more information).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>A</em> <em>Sith</em>.</p><p>Just like they always said he would be. Maybe that is why Anakin doesn’t feel as shocked or even slightly surprised as he should.</p><p>
  <em>I am a Jedi.</em>
</p><p>Yeah, he can repeat that all he wants. Still won’t be true.</p><p>Whatever. A Jedi or a Sith – this changes nothing. He still is what his Master wants him to be at this time. So it is of no importance. What matters is that, even though technically he isn’t Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Padawan anymore, Anakin still needs to be with him. Every moment of every day. He needs to always follow him. Always protect him. Always worship him the way he deserves.</p><p>Anakin suddenly remembers his dream – <em>that</em> dream, the one he cannot let go of, no matter how hard he tries – and he wants to moan with the guilty pleasure of hoping that it <em>just</em> <em>might</em> come true one day after all, now that his silver-tongued Master really has a golden-eyed apprentice.</p><p>There is something forbidden – <em>deliciously sinful</em> – in knowing that he will be watching his divine Master with his corrupt eyes now – the two wicked suns burning with raging fire under the guise of cold steel.</p><p>An old illustration springs to Anakin’s mind – the one he saw in a book about the Galaxy’s various religions back when he was little: a greedy demon mesmerized by the sight of an angel, forever entrapped in his lustful desire. Unallowed to touch. Unable to look away. Doomed to suffer for his sins for all eternity.</p><p>Sounds like fun.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>After his “miraculous recovery”, Anakin is ordered to stay in the Halls of Healing for observation.</p><p>“It’s only for one night, Knight Skywalker,” the healer assures.</p><p>Anakin agrees, albeit reluctantly. His Master has ordered him not to draw too much attention to himself, and Anakin is pretty sure that fighting his way out of the Healing Halls to run after his former Master counts as exactly that. So he stays. For <em>one</em> night. He has a very bad feeling about it.</p><p>What if even the new Bond isn’t enough to attach his Master to him, to keep him close and never let him leave? </p><p>What if Master only agreed to restore it to simply pacify him after a traumatic experience? </p><p>What if his Master doesn’t want him around anymore now that there is no need for that? He’s never actually <em>needed</em> his clingy Padawan around, after all...</p><p> </p><p>Anakin doesn’t get a single moment of sleep that night, of course, so the next morning he can’t really tell if it’s real or just his nightmare when he runs to their shared quarters and finds a crowd of younglings waiting by the door.</p><p>One murderous glare is enough to make half of them skedaddle, and the other half freeze, scared shitless.</p><p>
  <em>Little bastards!</em>
</p><p>It had hardly been a couple of weeks since he was knighted, and they’d already started to pursue his Master!</p><p>He isn’t going to take a new Padawan, is he?</p><p>
  <em>Is he?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Anakin has always feared that one day Master might replace him.</p><p>Ever since he first noticed the greedy, jealous stares other Padawans and younglings were throwing their way when he and his Master walked together, Anakin has <em>known</em>. He could already see him – clear as day.</p><p>
  <em>Another boy.</em>
</p><p>Another pair of eyes following his Master’s every move.</p><p>Another circle of arms closing around his Master’s neck.</p><p>Another needy voice calling him <em>Master…</em></p><p>The sickening kaleidoscope of images suddenly floods Anakin’s mind, filling every cell of his body with raw, scalding <em>hate</em>.</p><p>Why should he just let someone else take over the place in his Master’s heart that he has spent <em>years </em>preparing for himself? Carving it with his bare hands – bit by bit – in the granite rock of his Master’s being, till his fingers bled.</p><p>Is he really expected to just let some other boy have it?</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>“GET.OUT.”</p><p>The lightsaber hisses into life in his hand before Anakin even thinks about it, prompting the remaining younglings to scatter in all directions with panicked shrieks.</p><p>
  <em>Nasty little Kowakian monkeys.</em>
</p><p>No one will take Anakin Skywalker’s place. Ever.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>He kneels there, by the door, for a moment. He needs to calm down. He can’t go to his Master like this: he almost sees his lips quirking in disgust.</p><p>
  <em>So uncivilized, Anakin.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Right. <em>Right</em>.</p><p>He needs to collect his thoughts. He can’t always be either a savage or an undignified heap of limbs sobbing on the floor. Well, actually, he <em>can</em>. But he shouldn’t.</p><p>How much longer will his refined, elegant Master take it now that he isn’t actually obliged to?</p><p>Something tells Anakin that it won’t be too long. </p><p>This is his only chance then. He mustn’t blow it. He needs a strategy. A plan. He needs <em>words</em>. The only thing his Master can’t resist. The only thing Anakin isn’t very good at.</p><p><em>Kriff</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Anakin doesn’t know exactly how much time he has spent like this, and it doesn’t even matter because, in the end, his mind is left so distraught that, instead of his carefully constructed speech, when he opens the door and finally sees his Master, disheveled from sleep and <em>soft</em>, all he can utter is: “Please don’t take another Padawan!”</p><p>“Anakin…” Master looks startled. Of course he does. It’s barely six in the morning, he hasn’t had his tea yet, he is barefoot and ruffled from sleep and…glowing beautifully in the beams of the rising sun, ethereal and almost translucent…</p><p>It’s<em> art.</em></p><p>The thought suddenly shoots through Anakin’s brain, making him freeze halfway to his sleepy Master, as if he has walked into an invisible wall.</p><p><em>He</em> is art.</p><p>Anakin is not allowed to touch.</p><p>No one is allowed to touch.</p><p>
  <em>No one.</em>
</p><p>Anakin’s nostrils flare with his forcefully slowed deep breaths. His chest is heaving with them and with his flaming urge to scream. His fists clench with the effort of holding still while his body is shaking, coiled tight like a spring.</p><p>Anakin hears the roar of his own words as if from afar.</p><p>“If you take another Padawan, I will <em>kill</em> him, Master!”</p><p>Cold sweat breaks all over Anakin’s skin at the shocking clarity of what he has just said. Of what he <em>dared</em> to speak out loud. Of how easy it was. How terrifyingly <em>liberating</em>.</p><p>Still, now he is hyperventilating on the verge of a panic attack. Or a heart attack, more likely.</p><p>But Master simply tilts his head to the side just slightly, watching him for a moment with an unreadable expression, completely unfazed by his angry outburst.</p><p>“Tea?”</p><p>The word brings Anakin to his senses faster than a slap across the face.</p><p>“What?” He staggers back, astonishment breaking his angry scowl and making his eyebrows crawl up dramatically.</p><p>Master gives him another unimpressed look.</p><p>“When adults have problems, they drink tea and discuss solutions. And no matter how much you insist on acting like a <em>jealous</em> <em>child</em>, you are an <em>adult</em> now, Knight Skywalker. We shall have tea.”</p><p>“But I don’t want tea!” Anakin whines petulantly, barely holding back from stamping his foot.</p><p>
  <em>And I don’t want to be an adult!</em>
</p><p>“Alright.” Master nods, crossing his arms. “What <em>do</em> you want then?”</p><p>“I–” Anakin stutters, feeling utterly embarrassed by how quickly the answer springs to his mind. “I want you to hold me, Master. Like you always do.”</p><p>And not even waiting for his reply, Anakin throws himself around the Jedi’s neck. Tears spill out of his eyes when he feels strong arms wrap carefully around his waist. <em>The way they always do.</em></p><p>“I still need you. Don’t leave me alone. I need you, Master. I’m a <em>mess</em> without you...” He is shaking with his wet sobs, clinging to his Master’s lean frame. He indeed feels like a child, like a little boy from Tatooine all over again.</p><p>And it is so stupid, <em>stupid! </em>No wonder Master still doesn’t <em>actually</em> view him as an adult. After all, Anakin is being exactly what he promised himself he wouldn’t be: first a savage, and now <em>this</em>.</p><p>Can he even be anything else? Or does he only have two modes he is forever destined to switch between?</p><p>“Master…” he utters between hiccups, “Master, I’m sorry. I can’t… I don’t… I– Don’t leave me. I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe…”</p><p>“It’s okay, Ani.” His Master’s hand is petting his tousled hair. “You’re just an angry boy, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Yes, Master,” Anakin chokes out, sobbing loudly and raising his teary face from his Master’s soaked-through tunic to look at him with his red-rimmed, pleading eyes.</p><p>“And I’ve been spoiling you so badly, my dear, doting on you, pampering you incessantly,” the Jedi murmurs softly, his palm touching Anakin’s face with the gentlest of touches. “And look how <em>beautifully</em> <em>broken</em> you are...”</p><p>“Ah…” Anakin’s mouth falls open around an exhale when Master cups his face in his hands to press a lingering kiss to his scar.</p><p>“Aren’t you disappointed in me for being so angry all the time, Master?” Anakin asks, his voice small but incredulous. “Don’t you want to punish me for losing my temper? For trying to…to manipulate you?”</p><p>Anakin’s eyes are huge with fear, as though he still cannot believe he actually did that. But he <em>is</em> angry – <em>always</em> <em>angry</em>. Frustrated to the point where he can’t control himself. Who wouldn’t be in his place: living every day, knowing that he can never ever get what he desires the most, being so close but never close enough? Who wouldn’t be <em>furious</em>? <em>Who?</em></p><p>“I think I might let it go this time, dear.” His Master smiles graciously, wiping Anakin’s tears away. “After all, you are a darksider now. You are allowed to feel a little unbalanced.”</p><p>“I am allowed to show emotions?” Anakin whispers, his eyes round with shock, staring at his Master in disbelief, as if expecting him to laugh and tell him that it was just a joke.</p><p>“Have I ever forbidden it in the first place?” Master raises an eyebrow, smiling at Anakin’s bewildered expression.</p><p>“But– But… The Code…” Anakin stutters, thinking with frantic haste, trying to actually remember one single time Master told him off for being the  emotional mess that he is. But he can’t. He <em>can’t</em>. </p><p>A tired sigh. </p><p>An irritated eye roll. </p><p>A resigned shake of the head.</p><p>But never once a single word of reproach...</p><p>The realization leaves Anakin lightheaded and gasping for air like a stranded fish.</p><p>All his life he has been struggling against the rules he thought his Master wanted him to follow. It turns out he was the one who built his own cage. And now when he is finally out, when he is finally free – free to feel all of his emotions without fear, without shame – he…</p><p>His rapid breaths get stuck in Anakin’s throat as his mind screeches to a halt: he doesn’t actually <em>know</em> what to do with his new-found freedom. He feels dizzy, overwhelmed with the intensity of it all. His world is spinning. Everything feels out of control. Everything feels wrong. So <em>wrong</em>…</p><p>Anakin doesn’t understand.</p><p>He doesn’t understand <em>anything</em>.</p><p>He blinks. Slowly. Again. Again.</p><p>He falls to his knees, heavily, gracelessly, as if his repression has been the only thing propping him up, and now it is gone.</p><p>His eyes snap up to look at his Master from under his fluttering eyelashes.</p><p>“Master… I can’t control myself…” He is panting heavily, barely able to stay upright and not to sprawl at his Master’s feet. “Please, I need <em>you</em> to control me. I am giving myself to you, Master. Do whatever you want to me. Please!”</p><p>“Oh, Ani,” his Master breathes out with a sad smile, his fingers sliding under Anakin’s chin to make him look up while he speaks. “You are such a big boy now. Do you really still need me to take care of you? To tell you what to do?”</p><p>“Yes, Master. Please!” Anakin begs, all shame forgotten, his eyes glistening with tears. “I know I can’t be your Jedi Padawan anymore but… Will you have me as your Sith apprentice?”</p><p>Anakin clasps his hands together behind his back, lowering his head in deference, eyes fixed on the floor as he blushes fiercely.</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Anakin,” the Jedi scoffs, folding his arms on his chest. “I’m not a Sith Lord. I can’t teach you the ways of the Dark Side, you stupid child. Get up.”</p><p>“No.” Anakin shakes his head stubbornly; his knees dig into the hard duracrete floor. He won’t get up until his Master has accepted his vow of loyalty.</p><p>“I know you won’t guide me down the Dark path, Master, but there are still millions of things you could teach me, and I would be <em>honored</em> to be your apprentice again.”</p><p>“I have failed you as a teacher already,” the Jedi sighs, pressing his palms to his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to shield them from the terrible images attacking his memory. “I don’t want to do it again.”</p><p>Anakin stares up at him, scandalized. He opens his mouth to protest, but his Master doesn’t let him.</p><p>“I have <em>failed</em> you, Anakin,” he repeats emphatically, his voice strained, as if he were in actual physical pain. “It was said that you would <em>destroy</em> the Sith – not <em>join</em> them! I am the one who was supposed to guide you towards the Light, and instead I was the one who pushed you to the Dark Side.”</p><p>“Don’t say that, Master! That’s not <em>your</em> fault!” Anakin exclaims indignantly. <em>It’s the Council’s</em>, he wants to add.</p><p>“Do not call me <em>Master </em>anymore,” the Jedi implores, his voice broken, as he turns to leave, but Anakin catches the hem of his tunic, looking up pleadingly from under his lashes.</p><p>“But you <em>are</em> my Master. And you always will be. Look what you made of me. Do you really think anyone else could have me like this – begging on my knees?”</p><p>“Anakin, I–” </p><p>For the first time, in the history of forever, does Anakin see his Master speechless. <em>Good</em>. Anakin must be really getting somewhere with those <em>words</em> of his.</p><p>“You’ve raised me, Master. You’ve shaped me the way you wanted. Will you really let some other man take me away from you just because I am a Sith now? Will you let another man guide me?”</p><p>“<em>Anakin</em>…” It’s almost a growl. A warning. His Master’s eyes, dark and stormy, flash with something Anakin has never seen there before. It almost makes him shrink back, but his Master’s hand suddenly having grabbed a fistful of his hair doesn’t let him.</p><p>“Do you even know what you are offering me, dear one?” The hand yanks Anakin’s head back roughly, in such sharp contrast to the endearment that Anakin can’t hold back a moan.</p><p>“Yes! Yes, Master!”</p><p>“I don’t think you do, you stupid boy.” His Master shakes his head. “I don’t think you fully comprehend the implications of offering yourself to someone like an object. Like a <em>toy</em>. And here I thought you of all people should know what it entails.”</p><p>“I understand, Master. I do, I truly do.” Anakin whines, tilting his neck to bare more of his throat in his primal desire to show his submission. “And I still want you to have me. No one else but you. Please, Master. Please accept my allegiance. I am <em>yours</em>. I’ve always been yours. My power is only for you to wield. And you know it. Please, Master, <em>use</em> me. Use me however you want. Please, I’ll do anything for you. I’ll give you anything…”</p><p>Suddenly, his Master jerks his hand away from Anakin and staggers back, as though Anakin’s words have burned him.</p><p>“Anakin.” His voice is low with warning again. “You need to stop this and leave. <em>Now</em>.”</p><p>He hurriedly turns to leave too.</p><p>“No, please, please...” Anakin crawls after his Master’s retreating figure abjectly, on his hands and knees, pleading in a broken voice. “Let me prove it to you, Master. Let me show you. I will be worthy of you. I will earn your approval. You’ll have my endless loyalty–”</p><p>“Your loyalty should be to the Temple,” his Master interrupts his begging, his tone lashing and his expression dark.</p><p>“<em>You</em> are my Temple, Master,” Anakin whispers brokenly, pressing worshipful kisses to the insteps of the Jedi’s bare feet. “I pledge myself to <em>you</em>…”</p><p> </p><p>When silence follows, Anakin finally dares to lift his pleading eyes full of unshed tears and watches as his Master’s eyelashes flutter shut for a moment while the words wash over his skin.</p><p>Anakin’s oaths of loyalty wrap around his figure, gliding like silk, sparkling like diamonds, draping him in the most luxurious, exquisite garment of kingly red and gold.</p><p>“Master…” Anakin whispers reverently, his eyes huge with awe.</p><p>The man gasps and jerks, startled out of his sudden trance, and the vision of the future dissipates before Anakin’s eyes.</p><p> “<em>Apprentice</em>...” </p><p>The word rings,<em> delicious</em> with a hidden promise of the world Anakin so desires to live in.</p><p>“Thank you, thank you, thank you for taking me, <em>Master</em>,” Anakin’s tongue caresses the word until it melts, sweet and heady on his lips, and making it even more special than before, if that  is at all possible.</p><p>His Master smiles graciously, burying his hand in Anakin’s mussed curls while he observes his lifted face with strange fascination. “I wish you didn’t have to hide your beautiful eyes.”</p><p>A wave of unbearable relief engulfs Anakin’s poor, suffering soul: he doesn’t need to feel guilty about his uncontrollable emotions anymore, he doesn’t have to be ashamed of what he is or afraid that his Master will reject him because of his Darkness. Master <em>understands</em> him. Master <em>accepts</em> him the way he is. He feels cared for, he feels safe because he knows that his Master will guide and protect him from himself.</p><p>And Anakin looks up at him with the eyes full of molten gold – molten <em>sin</em> – alight with the fire of his Master’s supernova. And suddenly his mind flashes back, back – to where he was a little child in the Order’s enormous Archives; to where he opened an old, dusty book, his eyes full of wonder; to where on a time-worn page, a demon was kneeling before an angel, unable to tear his gaze away from his beauty. And the story was telling him of some ancient god’s favorite son – the most gorgeous and brilliant and radiant of the heavenly host. Anakin can’t recall the strange, alien name of the angel – only what it meant. <em>The Shining One. The Bringer of Light.</em></p><p>As a kid, Anakin used to sit for hours, just staring at the reproduction of an old fresco in the book, as enthralled and enraptured as the poor demon, but only once did his gaze wander a little further down the page, to where the picture’s title was. Yet somehow, it has still managed to get stuck in his mind for years and now it is suddenly seeping through his memory, in the very same intricate old-fashioned font.</p><p><em>The Rebel</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, many thanks to my amazing beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Come to him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, not <em>generals</em>.”</p><p>So spoke Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, standing before the Jedi High Council.</p><p>“We are not trained to lead armies. And we should be <em>ashamed</em> that we even allowed the creation of the clones, who are now nothing more than glorified slaves of the Republic.”</p><p>Brimming with righteous indignation, magnificent in his defiance, he took Anakin’s breath away.</p><p>He watched from where he was waiting by the doors, his mouth slightly open in awe, how his Master stood – one against them all – and addressed them with such fervor that their figures seemed to shrink somehow and become small and insignificant in the face of his intensity.</p><p>The Force was fluttering around his figure bathed in the Light coming from within him. Anakin could see motes of dust dancing slowly in that halo.</p><p>The scene was powerful. <em>Cinematic</em>. Anakin could have sworn he was hearing the dramatic rise of an epic, jubilant score in the background.</p><p>But then the Force seemed to suddenly still – <em>solemn</em> – when Obi-Wan Kenobi spoke again. </p><p>“It is strange to me that the Force is silent when the Jedi abandon their vows to only use its gifts to defend and protect – and never to attack others!”</p><p>Anakin observed with barely hidden glee how his Master’s indignant speech made the Council members shift uncomfortably in their chairs, as if they wanted to subtly move away from his sharp words aimed at <em>them</em> for a change.</p><p>“Haven’t you humbled your hearts, Masters? Why do you still crave political influence? It is not our mission to fight wars on behalf of anyone, not even the Republic. The Jedi are supposed to be above all that.”</p><p>“But the Republic will fall to pieces unless we interfere, Obi-Wan!” Plo Koon was the only one among the speechless Council members who found it in him to object. The others were still too shocked to have their own weapon – the Negotiator – turned against them.</p><p>“Then we should let it,” Obi-Wan retorted immediately, voice cold. Merciless. “If it can’t hold together on its own, then it should fall. Such is the natural way of things. Republics, states, worlds – they all come and go. The Order remains.”</p><p>“So we are supposed to just let the people of Jedha join the Separatists?” Mace Windu interjected acidly, folding his arms on his chest and giving Master Yoda a pointed look, calling him to interfere.</p><p>“If that is their wish,” Obi-Wan nodded, his voice even, holding Windu’s hateful glare with cold resolution.</p><p>“You are delirious, Kenobi!” Windu’s former apprentice Depa Billaba scoffed, throwing her arms in the air.</p><p>“I might be.” Obi-Wan’s chin lifted defiantly before he looked around at all the present Councilors with an open challenge in his gaze. “But who are you to push Jedha’s people to war when there is a peaceful solution they desire? Who gave you the right to judge what’s better for them? Who in here has higher authority than the Force itself?”</p><p>“Silence, brother!” Windu sprang from his seat, his nostrils flaring in rage and contempt. “Your mind is clouded by the Dark Side!”</p><p>Immediately, everyone’s judging glares turned to Anakin, silently accusing him of being a bad influence on his former Master.</p><p>Anakin just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes: they didn’t even know half of it. Windu would have probably had a heart attack if he had known that his fears had come true and Anakin was an actual Sith. </p><p>His Master looked heavenward too, not impressed by the obvious threat in Windu’s pose in the slightest. “I pray to the Force to open your eyes and let you see the error of your ways, Master Windu.”</p><p>“The Jedi are meant to eradicate the evil, to burn it off with purifying fire!” Windu fumed, his eyes blazing with anger, as he took another step forward, towards his opponent. But Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t one to be intimidated easily. He jerked his chin up and took a step forward too.</p><p>“You will be the first to burn in it!”</p><p>“Outrageous!” Windu exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Obi-Wan’s chest. “That is <em>blasphemy</em> against the Force!”</p><p>“Only against its <em>mere servant</em>,” Obi-Wan retorted, giving all the other Masters a disappointed, accusatory look. “Although it seems you don’t see much difference between these things anymore.”</p><p>“Be silent, Kenobi!”</p><p>“Don’t disgrace the Temple!”</p><p>“Blasphemy!”</p><p>The flurry of angry voices filled the Council Chamber, as if Obi-Wan had disturbed a hornet’s nest, but even then, his own passionate but level voice didn’t falter.</p><p>“Who gave you the right to decide the fates of millions? Who do you think you are?”</p><p>It seemed to Anakin that the Force thundered with triumphant fanfares at that moment, swirling like war banners around its General.</p><p><em>A devastating warrior who’d rather not fight</em>. That's what people said about him. Yes, he chose not to fight. Not for an unjust cause. Not in someone else’s war. But he was still a <em>General</em>, Anakin thought with fascination. The title suited his Master perfectly, no matter how fiercely he refused to take it. He didn’t need to be trained – he <em>was</em> <em>born</em> to lead armies. His name was a battle cry – the one that would make millions follow him into the blazing fire of war; the one that would give soldiers strength and courage; the one thousands of blood-stained lips would whisper with their dying breaths…</p><p>
  <em>General Kenobi.</em>
</p><p>He was fighting a battle even now. One against them all – he stood his ground. Using his voice as a weapon, he parried and attacked, and Anakin could have sworn he was seeing faint gleams of the cerulean blade swirling around his Master as he threw his accusations at the Council, his tone lashing.</p><p>“If you wish to purge the world with fire, I will not be the one to wield the torch for you! Who gave you the right to decide the fate of the entire Galaxy? This Council is not higher than the Force! The Force doesn’t speak through you anymore. I doubt it even speaks<em> to</em> you at all!”</p><p>“Sith heresy!” Windu roared, staring at his opponent in utter disbelief. “How dare you–”</p><p>Anakin’s hands clenched into fists, his body tense and ready for a fight.</p><p>“I would choose your next words very carefully, Councilors,” Anakin barked out, taking a step forward to stand beside his Master.</p><p><em>Master, how dare they offend you so! They are out of their minds! They will lead us all to our deaths! You can’t reason with them. Just kill them, Master!</em> </p><p>His angry voice thundered through their Bond.</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>The word rang – a sharp refusal – in Anakin’s head.</p><p><em>Should </em>I<em> kill them for you, Master? </em>Anakin’s voice in the Force offered, softer now, his eyes flickering to his Master for instructions.</p><p>But his Master just closed his eyes, shaking his head, and sighed.</p><p>“<em>No</em>, Anakin.”</p><p>And Anakin had no choice but to reluctantly lower his hand from where it had already gripped the hilt of his lightsaber and bow his head, stepping back, to his place behind his Master’s shoulder, with his usual “Yes, Master”.</p><p>He could almost physically feel the openly hostile glares of the Council members on him.</p><p>Even though they couldn’t hear what he had told his Master through the Bond, they all <em>hated</em> him. </p><p>They were barely holding back from outright reminding him that he wasn't Master Kenobi's Padawan anymore. They all wanted to remark on his insolence. They all wished to tell him he had no right to even be there in the first place, <em>the arrogant brat</em>, let alone interfere with the Council’s business.</p><p>None of them spoke though.</p><p>Anakin crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows with a smug smirk.</p><p>
  <em>Pathetic cowards.</em>
</p><p>“I see your former Padawan’s arrogance has rubbed off on you, Kenobi!” Windu spit out with disgust.</p><p>“Leave our disheartened brother alone, you should, Master Windu,” Grand Master Yoda finally spoke.</p><p>“Yes, let his delusions fall off like the black shroud of the Dark Side.” Shaak Ti nodded in agreement.</p><p>Plo Koon rose from his seat to put a calming hand on Windu’s shoulder.</p><p>“He shall soon see that the Force does speak its will through us still.”</p><p>“To Jedha go, will you, Master Kenobi?” Grand Master Yoda asked. “There assess the situation, you can. Perhaps, change your mind, it will. Hmm?”</p><p>Anakin scoffed. He very much doubted that.</p><p> </p><p>And that is why now, barely two hours later, he can’t believe he is standing on the bridge of <em>the</em> <em>Resolute</em>, a Venator-class Star Destroyer, with clone troopers calling him <em>Commander</em> Skywalker and asking for his orders.</p><p>What in Sith hell is he supposed to do now?</p><p>Ah, yes. <em>The usual.</em></p><p>“Follow General Kenobi’s flagship.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Master, I don’t understand…”</p><p>His apprentice looks confused and like he is ready to burst into tears at any moment. Even the holo-projection cannot hide the way his eyes are glistening with wetness.</p><p>“Why did you take this mission after all? I thought you said this fight was not for the Jedi.”</p><p>He is so young and naïve. He still clings to every word his dear, beloved Master says.</p><p>Obi-Wan sighs.</p><p>“I do not agree with the Council’s decision to take sides in the starting war, but the majority has spoken, and I <em>have</em> <em>to </em>obey.”</p><p>“But Master!”</p><p>Obi-Wan touches his beard to hide the smile that involuntarily tugs at his lips when he sees Anakin tip his head up, his eyebrows furrowing in anger and his fists clenching. He knows his Padawan doesn’t take it lightly that there is authority higher than his Master’s.</p><p>“I am sorry, Anakin. But <em>officially</em> we have been sent to the Holy City of NiJedha ‘to defend the Temple of the Kyber,’ and we have to go, no matter how we feel about it. The Temple is the property of the Order, and <em>technically</em> the Jedi <em>are</em> to fight for it, even if it means that we have to take the whole planet back from the Separatists.”</p><p>“This is a punishment, isn’t it?” the holo-projection spits out. “The Council must have found out that we restored our Bond, Master! They are punishing us!”</p><p>“Don’t be silly, Anakin.” Obi-Wan waves him off, but the boy is insistent.</p><p>“Why else would they send us to fight a losing battle?”</p><p>“Who says it is a losing battle?” Obi-Wan quirks an eyebrow.</p><p>“You know it is, Master!” Obi-Wan watches his irritated apprentice throw his hands up in helpless anger. “We may have two fleets, but our ground forces are only two battalions against a whole Separatist army. Without the support of the locals we don’t stand a chance!”</p><p>“What makes you think the locals won’t help us?”</p><p>“You said it yourself, Master.” Anakin looks puzzled. “You said they were too afraid to fight. That’s why they chose to join the Seps.”</p><p>“And why, my silly little apprentice, do you think the Council insisted on sending the Negotiator?” Obi-Wan laughs softly, observing Anakin’s baffled expression.</p><p>“You are going to <em>make</em> them go to war, Master?” he breathes out with astonishment. “But how?”</p><p>“Oh, you are so naïve, Ani.” Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle with fondness, and his Padawan lowers his head, unable to take the sheer intensity of it. His cheeks must be flaming right now, Obi-Wan thinks distractedly, and a little smile touches his lips. “I can’t <em>make</em> them do anything. But I can <em>talk</em> them into doing what we need. It’s simple, really. So easy to make up some <em>Grand Cause</em> – a just purpose – one of those that crowds absolutely <em>love</em>. People are <em>eager</em> to go into battle, you know. Be it to protect their homes or in hopes for a better life – they go like lambs to the slaughter, and all I need to do is promise them what they desire. Heroic feats to the young and brave. War loot to the mercenary scum. Money to the poor. Food to the hungry. And every one of them will get what they want. The war will give them everything.”</p><p>“Master…” Anakin’s mouth falls slightly open as he listens to Obi-Wan, his eyes huge with shock and strange fascination. “You speak of it as though it would be so effortless for you…”</p><p>Obi-Wan quirks an eyebrow with a patient smile.</p><p>“Why else did you think people all over the Galaxy fear the Negotiator?”</p><p>“You’ve done this before…” The terrible realization makes Anakin gasp and stagger back a little. The holo-projection breaks off for a second but immediately resumes again.</p><p>“Long before I took you on as my apprentice,” Obi-Wan starts with a long sigh, “when I was still just a Padawan myself, the Order started to use my talent as a weapon against its <em>particularly</em> <em>stubborn</em> opponents. I made a whole lot of...<em>sleemos</em> fight and kill each other back then.” </p><p>Obi-Wan smiles, recalling some of those memorable events, but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes – they remain sad because he knows he has just shattered his Padawan’s innocent admiration for his Master.</p><p>He sighs again, lowering his head.</p><p>“I know you don’t want to see it, but I am not the perfect Jedi you think me to be, Anakin. I’m merely a poster boy – a picture of an impeccable warrior whom people will meet with rapturous euphoria, who will lead their armies into battle, and who they will gladly die for.”</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan is reluctant to raise his eyes and look into his apprentice’s face, fearing to find only disappointment distorting his lovely features, but when he finally looks… Well, <em>rapturous euphoria</em> doesn’t even start to cover it.</p><p>“Master, you are not just a perfect Jedi or a perfect teacher for me. You are perfect <em>everything</em>. Trust me, it will be those people’s greatest <em>honor</em> to follow you into battle...or wherever else you want to lead them.”</p><p>“Anakin…” Obi-Wan is so touched that his throat constricts.</p><p>He huffs.</p><p>Some Negotiator he is if he can’t even speak.</p><p>“Master, allow me to take a shuttle and come aboard your command ship.”</p><p>“Why, <em>Commander</em> Skywalker, abandoning your post already?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow ironically.</p><p>What a delight it is to watch his Padawan squirm with his embarrassed need to be close to him. To be <em>with</em> him.</p><p>“I’m begging you…” the boy’s breath hitches in his throat with nervous excitement before he can actually say it out loud for the first time, “my <em>General</em>.”</p><p>It’s almost a moan when the word finally breaks out of Anakin’s ribcage. Obi-Wan could see his Padawan struggle to keep it inside ever since he first heard of the concept.</p><p>
  <em>A Jedi General of the Grand Army of the Republic.</em>
</p><p>Obi-Wan could bet his lightsaber that his Padawan is willing to go to any war just to be able to call him <em>that</em>.</p><p>Obi-Wan thinks about how the boy is allowed to play with real, actual warships, yet still, all he wants to do is run back into his Master’s arms. And the thought brings a soft, contented smile to his lips when he nods his permission.</p><p>“Come to me, dear one.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The ramp falls to the floor with a protesting screech after Anakin has pushed it down with the Force, too impatient to wait for it to lower automatically. He rushes out of the transport as if it were on fire.</p><p>His Master is already waiting for him in the hangar bay. He chuckles and rolls his eyes when he sees Anakin’s urgent haste.</p><p>The force with which Anakin throws himself into his arms almost bowls the man over to the ground. Anakin’s storm crashes against his Master’s serenity like a Star Destroyer against a planetary deflector shield.</p><p>His Master gasps with surprise and laughs, light and carefree, throwing his head back and sliding his fingers into Anakin’s curls, and as he hooks his arms tight around his Master’s waist, Anakin thinks that it’s his favorite sound in the entire universe.</p><p>Anakin tucks his head into his Master’s neck with a needy whine.</p><p>“Master…”</p><p>He shudders with want, with <em>need</em>, as he nuzzles into his Master’s throat, inhaling deeply, again, again, until he is lightheaded, but he still can’t get enough. For the first time, he is grateful for all the layers hiding his Master’s neck – without them he would be mouthing at it right now, unable to tear himself away.</p><p>“Master, Master, Master…” The fervent litany is falling from his lips in an endless plea.</p><p>“Did you miss me so soon, dear one?” Anakin can feel a smile in his Master’s quiet voice. “I still can’t leave you on your own even for an hour, can I?”</p><p>Anakin breathes out shakily against his Master’s neck. He knows it’s stupid, but he just can’t help it. He feels like he is dying – like he is drowning and burning and going insane all at once – when he can’t feel his Master’s presence close to him.</p><p>“I just– I– You were so upset, Master, and I– I don’t like it when you get upset.” Anakin stumbles over his words, his voice muffled by the fabric of his Master’s tunic where Anakin’s face is pressed into his neck.</p><p>“I wanna make it better for you, Master.” Anakin’s arms squeeze the Jedi’s waist a little in reassurance while he whispers hotly against his ear. It doesn’t come out as an offer of help. Instead, it is a plea, urgent and desperate, to let him do his job, his <em>duty</em> – to take care of his Master.</p><p>It has always been a part of Anakin, something deep under his skin – this yearning, this irresistible compulsion to serve his Master, to tend to his every need, to give him anything he could possibly want. </p><p>Anakin just knows that Obi-Wan Kenobi is not an ordinary person. No, he is unique. He is <em>special</em>. And it is Anakin’s <em>privilege</em> to look after him and lavish him with his undivided attention.</p><p>“Please tell me what I can do for you, Master. Use me however you want. I’ll do anything…” Anakin promises, leaving a trail of little kisses along his Master’s clothed neck and shoulder.</p><p>They are standing in the middle of the hangar bay. The clones are staring, but Anakin doesn’t care. He is actually enjoying it. <em>The</em> <em>validation</em>. The very idea that Master <em>allows </em>him to do this. To stand so close. To hold him. To breathe him in. For once, without his evasive maneuvers, without retreating to pretend that there is some distance between them. There is no distance – there is an unbreakable attachment.</p><p>Now that sounds like a Code Anakin could actually follow. In fact, they have been both following it ever since Obi-Wan Kenobi heard Anakin Skywalker’s voice calling him from across the stars. Anakin doesn’t know why his Master has finally decided to accept it now. Is it because he has fallen already anyway and can’t possibly be ruined any further? (He can, by the way). It doesn’t matter. The fact alone leaves Anakin feeling drunk and dizzy with joy.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, the Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, not generals. But Anakin absolutely <em>loves</em> how he can now lower his head and speak proudly, for everyone to hear:</p><p>“What are your orders, my General?”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Waxer! Wanna go grab some caf?” Cody calls out to one of his men standing nearby and eyeing the pile of crates he is taking inventory of with infinite boredom. “All this hangar bay chaotic rush always makes me thirsty.”</p><p>“Speaking of thirsty. Look over there.” Waxer tips his head to the transport ship where two Jedi are standing.</p><p>“Wait, <em>that</em> is the Commander?” Cody stares at the Jedi in visible confusion. “But…when the General spoke of him, I was under the impression that he is like a son to him or something.”</p><p>“I'm not gonna pretend I even remotely understand those weird relationships the Jetiise have between themselves, but I don’t think Commander Skywalker would share your opinion. It’s hardly a <em>father</em> <em>figure</em> he sees when he looks at the General.” Waxer smirks. “I mean, look at him. What a mess! He looks like he is going to fall to pieces in the General’s arms at any moment.”</p><p>“Yeah, he is a complete wreck,” Cody agrees with a grin. “But can you blame him, really? I mean, have you even seen the General, man? He is so hot my eyes tear up every time I look at him.”</p><p>Waxer laughs in agreement. “Just maybe don’t mention that to the boy. He seems edgy as it is, and I bet he is a jealous little bitch.”</p><p>“Commander Cody, sir. We have a problem,” another clone trooper’s voice interrupts their conversation through the com-link.</p><p>“Great, there goes my caf,” Cody mutters under his breath. “What is it again, Punch? Speak.”</p><p>Waxer hears the hum of speech in Cody’s earpiece as Punch reports his news, and judging by Cody’s rapidly darkening expression, it is not good.</p><p>“What is it, Commander?” he asks when Cody has turned off the com.</p><p>“Looks like I’m gonna have to interrupt the General’s happy reunion.”</p><p> </p><p>Cody coughs politely in order to draw the Jedi’s attention. “General Kenobi, Commander Skywalker, I am sorry to disturb you, but it appears our initial intel was flawed.”</p><p>Kenobi sighs and draws away from his apprentice’s embrace. He turns to face Cody with a polite smile, and Skywalker scowls, tugging his hood over his head and moving to stand behind his Master’s left shoulder like a guard.</p><p>He looks menacing in spite of how affectionate he was being just a few moments ago, and the contrast is quite unsettling. Cody’s senses are screaming at him to back away under the heavy, suffocating pressure of that glare Skywalker gives him. For a moment, it even seems to Cody that he has seen Skywalker’s eyes glimmer like two embers in the dark shadow of his cowl.</p><p>The General looks too delicate – almost <em>fragile</em> – beside his dangerously malevolent apprentice, and Cody battles the urge to ask the General whether he maybe feels uncomfortable or even threatened by his Padawan’s presence. (Or is it a <em>former</em> Padawan? Cody doesn't actually understand anymore). But if the General really does feel threatened by him, Cody would…</p><p>What would he do exactly? What could he possibly do? Skywalker would kill him. Skywalker would kill everyone on this ship. Cody doesn’t need to be Force-sensitive to know that.</p><p>He lowers his head, having decided to talk to the General in private later.</p><p>“What is it, Commander Cody?” Kenobi prompts, tearing the Clone Commander out of his musings.</p><p>“The latest recon mission has shown that we are too late – the people of Jedha have already signed the treaty with the Separatists, sir,” Cody reports to the floor, still not quite daring to raise his gaze to look directly at the General.</p><p>“Oh well, then I guess our presence here is no longer required,” Kenobi addresses Skywalker with a strangely pleased smile, and they both turn to leave.</p><p>“But, General!” Cody hastily calls after them. “There is…something else.”</p><p>“What is it, <em>trooper</em>?” Skywalker whips around, his glare outright murderous, and Cody doesn't dare to correct him about his rank.</p><p>“It appears that,” Cody hates how small his voice sounds when he takes a cautious step back, “the entire population has abandoned the capital, sir.”</p><p>“I beg your pardon?” Kenobi turns around too, his eyebrow lifting incredulously as he speaks with his crisp Coruscanti accent.</p><p>“It looks like they are evacuating, sir.”</p><p>“Evacuating?!” Skywalker exclaims in disbelief. “To where? There is nothing out there but the barren wasteland!”</p><p>“Unknown, sir.” Cody makes himself stay where he is instead of taking another step back, or even a couple maybe, to avoid the Commander’s obvious irritation.</p><p>General Kenobi sighs, folding his arms on his chest.</p><p>“Perhaps, we should go down there and take a look for ourselves after all.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N 1:<br/>Yes, yes, all Jedi Knights were Generals in the Clone Wars, and only Padawans were Commanders, but I wanted some difference between Anakin’s and Obi-Wan’s military ranks just like there is a difference between their ranks of Knight and Master.<br/>And also, I know Obi-Wan was being extra dramatic about the war in this chapter, and I’m not saying that the Jedi brought their demise on themselves by participating in the Clone Wars, but I do believe that they had no business leading the Clone Army in the first place. They were no generals. They were trained to be lone warriors who barely even knew how to work in pairs, let alone lead armies of thousands.</p><p> <br/>A/N 2:<br/>If you are interested in the epic score Anakin was imagining while Obi-Wan was defying the Council, you might want to check this out:<br/><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6MjCnfoGTP8">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6MjCnfoGTP8</a></p><p> </p><p>As always, many thanks to my amazing beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong> for her work and support.</p><p> </p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Balance him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Republic shuttle lands outside the improvised refugee camp spread between two mountain ranges as far as one can see, and Anakin distractedly thinks that they should have brought a couple of gunships with them, just in case the locals turn out to be hostile (they didn’t ask for the Republic’s help after all), but Master does not want to provoke them, and so, aside from a couple of clones, they’ve come alone.</p><p>His Master stalks down the ramp, and Anakin follows him closely, loitering behind his shoulder even after the man has paused to let him draw alongside. </p><p>It’s not his place. They are not equals. Anakin is not even entirely sure he deserves to be there in the first place, let alone walk <em>beside</em> his Master.</p><p>He shivers and hides deeper into his flowing dark cloak, his face now almost entirely obscured by his cowl. He is nothing but his Master’s shadow.</p><p> </p><p>The Jedi stumbles to a halt halfway down the ramp, and Anakin immediately freezes behind him as well: there is a crowd gathering swiftly around the ship – a roaring sea of faces and colorful clothes. It is shifting and moving with intent like a single living organism. A <em>huge</em>, <em>terrifying</em> living organism.</p><p>“<em>Master!</em>” Anakin whispers with emphasis as he puts his hand onto the man’s forearm to subtly pull him back inside the ship.</p><p>“No, Anakin.” His Master shakes his head. “It’s alright. I will speak to them.”</p><p>He takes a step forward, and Anakin has no choice but to follow. </p><p>His lightsaber ignites with a hiss of warning in his lowered hand, and the crowd suddenly stands still with fascinated gasps.</p><p>“The Jedi! The Jedi!”</p><p>“The Jedi have come!”</p><p>“They are here! They haven’t abandoned us!”</p><p>“The Jedi have come to save us!”</p><p>“We knew you would come!”</p><p>“Thank the Force!”</p><p> </p><p>A shiver runs down Anakin’s spine at how inexplicably charged, <em>powerful</em> the moment feels.</p><p>Anakin shifts his gaze to his Master and almost forgets how to breathe when he sees his pure, wide-eyed fascination.</p><p>“They are Force-sensitive, Anakin,” he breathes out barely audibly. “<em>All</em> of them. Look!”</p><p>But Anakin doesn’t want to tear his eyes away from his Master’s face to see the people’s looks of worshipful admiration. He knows exactly how they feel if they are sensitive enough to see his Master’s Signature anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“People of Jedha!” Obi-Wan’s Force-amplified voice resounds through the valley. “We have come to help. We mean you no harm.”</p><p>He gives Anakin’s blade a pointed look, and Anakin mutters “Right,” turning it off.</p><p>“I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Master bows slightly, his arms folded in front of him and hidden in the sleeves of his robes, just like that day on Tatooine when he introduced himself to a strange slave boy. “And this is Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.”</p><p>Anakin takes off his hood and bows on autopilot when his Master gestures to him, his mind too busy suddenly realizing just how far they’ve come since that memorable day.</p><p>“Kenobi?”</p><p>“The Negotiator?”</p><p>A wave of astonished whispers runs through the crowd.</p><p>“No. I’m afraid the time for negotiations has passed. It’s <em>General</em> Kenobi now.”</p><p>The brown robe slides off his shoulders in an elegant flowing motion to reveal a white chest plate and shoulder pauldrons.</p><p>Armor is never good – it’s a sign of war. But Anakin stares, completely mesmerized, as the Jedi Order’s insignia emblazoned on it burns, proud and golden in the flame of his Master’s aura.</p><p>A General. A warrior of Light. An angel with a crown of stars on golden rods fanned out behind his head.</p><p>That’s how Anakin Skywalker has always seen him. And now everyone will see him too – shining and radiant in the Force’s glory.</p><p>He is the living embodiment of everything that’s good, and just, and noble. Wherever he goes, the Force goes with him, <em>its favorite son</em>.</p><p>And Anakin knows it’s only a matter of time before Obi-Wan Kenobi – the Shining One, the Bringer of Light – <em>rebels</em> against everything that’s holding him back…</p><p> </p><p>The crowd explodes with tremendous cheers of approval, startling Anakin out of his transfixed state.</p><p>“The General will lead us!”</p><p>“We’ll get our city back!”</p><p>“The Jedi are with us!”</p><p>“Force bless you, General!”</p><p>“Well, that was easy,” Obi-Wan mutters, turning to look at Anakin, his eyes glimmering with joyful amazement. “I’m not entirely sure what is happening, but it is not what I was expecting at all.”</p><p>Anakin stares back at him and only hopes that there actually aren’t little hearts in his eyes when he does so.</p><p>“Perhaps, the Council were right after all, and I shouldn’t have defied them…” Obi-Wan mutters thoughtfully under his breath, but Anakin catches it anyway.</p><p>“No, Master, don’t say that!” he protests, bending slightly to whisper emphatically into his Master’s ear. “It’s just a happy coincidence that this isn’t an invasion anymore. You know it <em>was going to be!</em>”</p><p>“Anakin…” His Master sighs tiredly. He looks upset and regretful now.</p><p>Anakin wants to swear out loud.</p><p>Why does his Master always have to blame himself for the Council’s shitty decisions? Why is he still struggling to accept how rotten the Temple’s doctrine has become ever since the Jedi started meddling in politics? Why does he want to believe in the Order so much?</p><p>Ever the faithful one. Loyal to the end.</p><p>That’s exactly what Anakin is afraid of – that Obi-Wan Kenobi will die for some noble cause, pointed by the hand that knows no mercy.</p><p>But Anakin won’t let it happen. Even if he has to shatter his Master’s precious illusions to save him. From devotion.</p><p>“Master, they sent us here under the pretense of protecting the Temple they abandoned a long time ago!” Anakin whispers fervently, bitter tears in his eyes. “They don’t care about these people – they were only doing the Senate’s bidding! You were right and they were wrong! Don’t you see–”</p><p>“Give way! Give way!” the crowd suddenly starts to part in the middle, making way for an old woman. </p><p><em>She must have been considered very beautiful once</em>, Anakin muses absently, studying her silver-gray hair quite unusually arranged into two big side buns.</p><p>She isn’t just old – she looks positively <em>ancient</em>, and it is obvious that it takes her a great effort to even stand, let alone walk with any haste. Master frowns and rushes forward to meet her halfway down the improvised corridor. Anakin follows two steps behind.</p><p>The crowd is silent when the woman speaks, addressing the General.</p><p>“Our people have kept the key to your Temple for hundreds of years,” she says solemnly, even though her voice is shaky with old age, and Anakin can’t find it in himself to stop her wrinkled hands as she reaches out to his Master. “We’ve always believed the Jedi will come back one day.”</p><p>Thousands of voices rumble in agreement around them, sending a shiver through every nerve in Anakin’s body.</p><p>The Force itself is brimming with triumph at the significance of this moment, as if telling Anakin: “Look! These people have kept their faith in the Jedi for centuries, even though they had no reason to. Why can’t you do the same? Have faith!”</p><p>But Anakin only scowls. His Master already has faith for the both of them. Enough and more to spare.</p><p> </p><p>“We only agreed to the treaty with the Separatists because they promised us they wouldn’t bomb the Temple,” the woman explains, weakly squeezing Obi-Wan’s palms in her own with reassurance. “But they tricked us. As soon as we let them into the city, they killed the Guardians of the Whills who were protecting the Temple. They tortured the priests of the Church of the Force. They wanted the key, but the priests refused to give it up. Then they threw us out of our own homes and banished us from the city until someone brings them the key. But we haven't given it to them. We’ve kept it safe for you, Master Jedi.”</p><p>Everyone in the crowd seems to hold their breaths in reverent silence when the woman reaches into a pocket of her worn, once white clothes and produces a flat stone disc covered with strange inscriptions. She attempts to kneel before the Jedi in front of her as she offers it to him, but he immediately stops her, catching her forearms and pulling her back up to her feet.</p><p>Instead, he is the one who kneels.</p><p>Anakin watches with a mixture of shock and awe as he – a Jedi Master, a General of the Grand Army of the Republic, the Galaxy-famous Negotiator – lowers to one knee before an ordinary peasant woman with a respectful, almost worshipful bow.</p><p>“People of Jedha, I am famous for my eloquence,” he says, taking the offered key with absolute reverence, “but there are no words in the entire universe that could express how<em> humbled</em> and <em>grateful</em> the Jedi are for your loyalty and service.”</p><p>When Master finally lifts his face to look up at the woman, Anakin gasps: there are tears streaming down his cheeks. Anakin has never seen his Master so deeply <em>touched</em>. His own eyes start to treacherously water too.</p><p>That’s why devotion is so dangerous. Because it’s <em>beautiful</em>. Especially, when it’s given so freely and willingly.</p><p>“The Order is forever in your debt,” his Master says solemnly. “Ask <em>anything</em> of us, and we shall do it.”</p><p>With a soft, motherly smile, the woman cups his Master’s face in her hands and leans down to place a kiss onto his forehead.</p><p>“Help us, General Kenobi. You're our only hope.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Get our troops on the ground and coordinate with the locals. We are taking the Holy City back tomorrow.”</p><p>At first, Anakin thinks it only seems to him that his Master’s voice is unnaturally strained when he gives the brief order to the clones who have stepped out of the ship towards them, but now that they are finally on board, he can feel that something is wrong even before his Master sways slightly on his feet.</p><p>“Master? Are you okay?” Anakin dashes to him in concern to hover protectively by his side.</p><p>“Yes, I just– I just need to lie down for a minute,” he tries to reassure Anakin but fails because, in the next moment, he is forced to grab Anakin’s forearm for support in a feeble attempt to stay upright. And for the first time, Anakin is actually grateful for his own inability to dial down on his insane overprotectiveness because without it, he wouldn’t be there in time to catch his Master when his knees suddenly buckle.</p><p>Anakin’s hands are shaking when he slides his arms around his Master’s waist for support.</p><p>“Ani…”</p><p>Anakin’s heart almost stops when he hears his Master’s weak gasp.</p><p>“Master! Master, what’s wrong?” His voice is shaking with panic and a sense of indescribable dread. “What is happening?”</p><p>“I feel…lightheaded…”</p><p>His Master’s eyelashes flutter shut and he leans against Anakin’s chest, his body going almost entirely limp.</p><p>“It’s too much…too much…” He sounds delirious when he moans weakly, his head falling backward. “I can’t… Make it stop! It hurts… Make them stop…”</p><p>Anakin watches him in horror. His Master looks like he is drugged or drunk out of his mind. His pale face contorts with pain. His whitened lips open around rapid, shaky exhales as he keeps babbling incoherently on the verge of consciousness. It’s all a mixture of different languages – half of them Anakin doesn’t even recognize. None of the words make any sense. None of them tell Anakin what to do.</p><p>Anakin feels like he is in agony himself. He is pathetic<em>. Useless</em>. He has failed to protect his Master. He can’t help him. He’s letting him suffer. He is a terrible Padawan. He doesn’t know what to do. He is stupid. Weak. Worthless.</p><p>This is a disaster!</p><p>“Please, please, Master!” he begs over and over again in a shaky voice, his tears dropping onto his Master’s ashen cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong! How can I help? <em>Please</em>…”</p><p>“Ani,” his Master breathes out as if in surprise, his fingers digging painfully into Anakin’s bicep and his eyes suddenly snapping open for one lucid moment. “Help me…”</p><p>“Tell me how, Master! Come on!” Anakin grabs his Master’s shoulders and gives him a shake when he sees that he is slipping back into his delirious drowsiness.</p><p>“It’s their feelings…” the Jedi slurs, his eyes rolling back. “All their hope…the adoration… I can’t take it all. It’s too much…”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Anakin’s first thought is that his Master is still out of it because what he is saying just doesn’t make any sense, but then…</p><p><em>They are Force-sensitive. All of them</em>, his Master’s words from earlier suddenly ring in Anakin’s head.</p><p><em>Of course!</em> His cold, reserved Master is not equipped to deal with all these acute, intense emotions Anakin himself is pretty much used to struggling with on a daily basis.</p><p>Anakin gasps with the realization and looks at his Master in the Force. He almost faints himself when he sees it: his Master’s Signature is like a nuclear blast in slow motion. His star is expanding dramatically, fueled by thousands of flaming threads.</p><p>The Force is shuddering around it, blazing with flashes of lightning, and the very fabric of reality is starting to tear under the enormous pressure.</p><p>And Anakin watches, watches, mesmerized by the terrifying sight, unable to move or look away. A part of him wants to just wait a little longer and be swept away by the oncoming explosion, be blasted into billions of particles and scattered all across space and time…</p><p>But then he won’t be with his Master… </p><p>No, that is <em>unacceptable! </em></p><p>He needs to do something. He needs to contain the blast. There is no other choice but…</p><p>Anakin sighs with relief and, for the first time in his entire life, lets the black hole inside his chest go. Allows it to expand endlessly in all directions. Allows it to wrap around the crisis of his Master’s star and swallow it completely, enveloping it in the blanket of Darkness, protecting and shielding it from the outside world.</p><p><em>Containing</em> it.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>It’s just a standard Republican shuttle, so his Master’s cabin is only big enough for a bed and a desk. Anakin doesn’t even remember exactly how they got here. It doesn’t matter. What’s important, is that they <em>got</em> here at all.</p><p>He carefully lowers the barely conscious Jedi onto the bed.</p><p>“It’s gonna be fine, Master,” Anakin murmurs, tugging the man’s boots off. “You will get better soon.”</p><p>He isn’t entirely sure which one of them needs the reassurance more, but he keeps repeating it anyway. Like a mantra. Like a prayer.</p><p>“You’re gonna be alright, Master.” Anakin unfastens his Master’s utility belt and puts it onto the desk. The white plastoid-alloy armor, the tabards and the outer tunic follow it shortly.</p><p>“You will be just fine,” he keeps cooing as if he could actually coax his Master into getting better.</p><p>“Ani…” Obi-Wan exhales weakly, looking up with heavy-lidded eyes, his trembling hand reaching out to his apprentice.</p><p>“I’m here, Master.” Anakin rushes to kneel by his bed and press his lips to the offered palm. “Don’t worry, you are okay. I won’t let anything happen to you ever again, I swear. I will protect you. You are safe with me, Master.”</p><p>Anakin presses his forehead into his Master’s shoulder and hopes that his voice is no less resolute just because it is trembling.</p><p>“I– I feel strange… Everything is spinning…” Master breathes out with a weak moan, his head rolling on the pillow from side to side with restless motions. “I can’t think clearly…”</p><p>“It’s okay. You are just exhausted, Master,” Anakin reassures him like a little child. “You need to rest now.”</p><p>Anakin scrambles to move away, but his Master’s hand catches his forearm.</p><p>“Stay with me, my Padawan…”</p><p>“Of course, Master.” Anakin nods. “I’m here. I’ll just take my boots off.”</p><p> </p><p>Anakin’s belt joins his Master’s on the desk with a soft clank, and Anakin leans over the polished surface, propping his weight on his arms, his head hung between his shoulders.</p><p>He just needs a moment. Just a moment before he can breathe freely again, without the metal band of panic tightening around his chest.</p><p>Just a moment before he turns around and looks again – to where his Master is sprawled obscenely on the bed atop the cover of Darkness, its black silk curling and gliding along his body like flowing water; to where his head is thrown back in a halo of coppery-golden locks; to where his lips part around delirious, breathy moans as they call his name…</p><p>“<em>Ani</em>…”</p><p>“Yes, Master. Just a <em>moment</em>,” he begs, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at the desk with a death grip.</p><p>
  <em>He just needs a moment.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A soft tap on the door startles Anakin out of his agony.</p><p>“I’ll be just outside, Master. Back in a second,” he promises and quickly slips out of the cabin, careful not to open the door too widely.</p><p>There’s that annoying clone Commander waiting outside. Cody, is it? Master has mentioned his name once or twice. Anakin should hate him for that reason alone.</p><p>“What is it, Commander?” Anakin scowls in annoyance.</p><p>“Commander Skywalker,” the clone says to Anakin’s bare feet, and when he lifts his head, his scowl is no less impressive than Anakin’s own. “I need to speak to General Kenobi.”</p><p>“Well, it’s gonna have to wait. The General is…indisposed.”</p><p>Anakin turns around, letting the clone know that the conversation is over, but this Cody guy is persistent.</p><p>“What’s wrong with the General?”</p><p>Is it just Anakin, or does he sound slightly on edge?</p><p>Anakin turns to him again. Slowly.</p><p>“<em>Nothing.</em> He is just <em>tired</em>.” The glare he gives Cody is usually enough to scare even the bravest of men off, yet the clone remains where he is and even keeps pressing:</p><p>“May I speak with him then?” Cody takes a step forward, towards the cabin. “It’s urgent.”</p><p>“No, you may <em>not</em>,” Anakin grits out, making sure to position himself strategically between the clone Commander and the door.</p><p>“It will only take a moment. <em>Sir</em>.”</p><p>That <em>sir</em> out of the clone’s mouth sounds no more respectful than <em>sleemo</em>.</p><p>“I can’t let you wake him.”</p><p> <em>I can’t let anyone see him vulnerable.</em></p><p>Anakin takes a step forward, his posture openly menacing. “Back off.”</p><p>Surprisingly, it doesn’t work.</p><p>Cody stands his ground and only bares his teeth in response.</p><p>“If you have hurt him…”</p><p>His fists clench as he is visibly straining to remain still.</p><p>Anakin stares at him in shocked silence for a long moment before he finally has his voice back.</p><p>“<em>Hurt</em> him?! Are you out of your kriffing mind?! How could you even think…” The very concept is so unspeakable that Anakin’s body starts to hyperventilate in terror.</p><p>Is that how he comes off? As violent and abusive? But that’s all wrong. It’s not true! He is just possessive, that’s all. He isn’t even controlling – he is the one who wants to <em>be</em> controlled. Can’t this Cody guy see it?</p><p>“I’d rather <em>die</em> than cause him any harm! My Master is the <em>most precious thing</em> in the entire universe. I worship the ground he walks on. I only live to satisfy his every whim!”</p><p>
  <em>And if it wasn’t for you, I would be on my knees before him right now.</em>
</p><p>“Commander Skywalker…” Cody quickly takes a few steps back, his palms raised in a call for peace. He is staring at Anakin in utter amazement: clearly, he wasn't expecting him to be this oversharing. “I apologize. I must have misread the situation. It’s just– The General is so delicate, and you are…<em>intense</em>.”</p><p>At that, Anakin’s anger suddenly dissipates, and he chuckles, deflated.</p><p>“I guess looks can be deceiving, huh? You’ll see how ‘<em>delicate</em>’ he is tomorrow. On the battlefield.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>When the door finally hisses shut, leaving the astonished clone Commander behind, Anakin leans against it heavily, throwing his head back with a relieved exhale.</p><p>He remains still for a while as he watches his Master’s peacefully sleeping figure with chest-tightening fondness: he is curled on his left side, bundled up in Anakin’s Darkness like in a comforter. It is sliding soothingly around him with a lulling hum and a soft crackle where it meets the Jedi’s own starlight essence.</p><p>“Ani…” he mutters in his sleep, his long eyelashes trembling against his flushed cheeks, as he tugs at the luxurious velvety fabric of the Darkness, wrapping himself warm in it.</p><p>“I’m here, Master,” Anakin whispers, drawing closer, hypnotized by the sight. “I’m with you.”</p><p>He can’t tear his gaze away. He can’t stop himself when his legs bring him closer and closer to the bed, as if pulled by a tractor beam.</p><p>He slips into his Master’s bed, quiet as a mouse, just like when he was little. But this time… This time he is shameless enough to pull his Master’s sleeping form into his arms, to wrap his own body protectively around his back, to nuzzle into his neck with a quiet mewl of happiness.</p><p>His essence curls around his Master too: around his mind and his body, inky velvet lying over him like a second skin, soft and clinging.</p><p>It’s an embrace unlike any the two of them have shared before, and Anakin doesn’t want to let go. Ever.</p><p>All he wants to do is hold his Master like that forever and soothe the world away. Be everything he needs. Fuse with him entirely so that he is tucked away unseen. Keep him safe in the way no one else ever could.</p><p>“I got you, Master,” Anakin murmurs softly, pressing a worshipful kiss to where the man’s tunic slid down a little, baring the porcelain, almost translucent skin of his shoulder.</p><p>“Padawan…” Obi-Wan exhales and relaxes into Anakin’s arms, still asleep, swaddled in the tender embrace of his apprentice’s warm, pulsating, living Darkness.</p><p><strong><em>Look, Anakin,</em></strong> the Darkness purrs, <strong><em>we are all around him, just like you’ve always wanted. We’ve helped. We’ve shielded him. We’ve kept him safe. We are useful. We are good.</em></strong></p><p>“Yes.” Anakin buries his nose in his Master’s hair and murmurs, “We love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>For some reason, the Separatists are really desperate to hold the city of NiJedha because their usual droid army is heavily reinforced by Ubesian, Rodian and Trandoshan mercenaries. Even Mandalorian helmets can be spotted here and there. And they are either really, <em>really</em> stupid or under strict orders to keep the city</p><p>intact, because they have chosen to abandon their obvious vantage point behind the city walls and fight out in the open (which is a stupid-ass decision, in Anakin’s humble opinion).</p><p>And now, it is like one of those battles of old, straight out of history books. Two armies are standing, frozen in the moment, in front of each other. The time itself seems to still between them too. The silence is only broken by the beating of thousands of hearts.</p><p>The green of grass and the blue of the sky is flowing on the war banners of the Jedha people and the Jedi Order.</p><p> </p><p>When clones follow the Jedi into battle, it is nothing unusual. It is expected. But this – this is <em>special</em>.</p><p>The people who were terrified before aren’t afraid anymore. They stand proudly under their standards, ready to fight for their city. Anakin looks at them and thinks of how the only standard <em>he</em> is ready to follow into battle is the worn fabric of his Master’s cloak.</p><p>A shout of the orders shatters the reverent silence.</p><p>“The Force is with us!” General Kenobi’s voice thunders over the rows of clone troopers and Jedha’s warriors, accompanied by the crackling static of his blade as he spins it at his side.</p><p>“The Force is with us!” thousands of voices echo, sending a wave of rapturous excitement over Anakin’s body and making his skin crawl.</p><p>He thinks that this city must be truly holy and its people truly righteous if the Force has heard their prayers and brought them its General.</p><p>He stands, surreal and ethereal, crowned by the threads of sunlight in his auburn hair. </p><p>Even wrapped in the mantle of Anakin’s Darkness, he is still shining vigorously, <em>mercilessly</em>.</p><p>A sudden memory of ten years ago springs to Anakin’s mind.</p><p>
  <em>“Angels are majestic but too gentle and fragile,”</em> he said then, a little slave boy in Watto’s Parts store.</p><p>He was wrong.</p><p>Angels are warriors too.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The Master and his apprentice fight back to back – together as one – dancing around each other in perfect sync to the chaotic, irregular beat of the battle and the triumphant melody of the Force singing around them. Their blades are flashing and hissing angrily as they cut deeper and deeper into the enemy lines. Within the brutal, violent whirlwind of the fight, they are at peace. In a beautiful, lethal <em>balance</em>. Intertwined together in the Force so fully that it’s impossible to tell them apart. They are together. They are united. They are one! A single warrior. <em>A single soul. </em>And the only wave of emotions Anakin can’t protect his General from is his own…</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan Kenobi smiles, backlit by the golden-hued flashes of his Padawan’s vibrant, radiant euphoria and illuminated by the</p><p>shooting stars of the blaster fire. His halo spreads behind him, fluttering like enormous wings over the broken rows of Jedha’s warriors. And the bloodied, war-scorched crowd <em>roars</em> as it dashes forward, sweeping away everything in its path.</p><p>“To NiJedha!”</p><p>“General Kenobi is with us!”</p><p>“The Jedi gave us the Force!”</p><p>“To NiJedha!”</p><p>“Advance! Advance!”</p><p>“The Force is with us!”</p><p>“Kenobi is with us!” the soldiers cry.</p><p>“The Devil!” the enemy echoes. “The Devil is with them!”</p><p> </p><p>The mercenaries don’t even retreat – they <em>run</em>, crashing into their own lines of battle droids and knocking them down like bowling pins. The panic and turmoil spread like a wildfire.</p><p>“The Devil is with them!”</p><p> </p><p>The Devil extinguishes the blue flame of his blade and laughs.</p><p><em>Victorious</em>.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“May the Force be with you, Master Jedi!”</p><p>“Thank you! Thank you!”</p><p>“Bless you, General!”</p><p>People keep lavishing their praise on them as Anakin follows his Master along the streets of the freed city to the Temple of Kyber. People thank them, and applaud, and reach out to touch the General’s robes, royally scarlet with the enemies’ blood.</p><p>Anakin tugs off his own cloak, soaked with war, and carefully drapes it around his Master’s shoulders to cover him from the ecstatic crowd at least a little. Along with the real one, the cloak of Darkness shifts protectively around him too, wrapping him up even tighter.</p><p>“Thank you, <em>Commander</em>,”</p><p>the Jedi smiles, his eyes half-lidded in delight, and lifts his hand to Anakin’s face to trace his fingers along the scar on his cheekbone. “You’ve been such a good boy.”</p><p>“It is my pleasure to serve you, <em>my General</em>.” Anakin drops his gaze bashfully, his cheeks aflame with sudden arousal at the praise.</p><p>They are in the middle of the street. People are staring. People are whispering.</p><p>One word. Only one word in the murmuring rumble of the crowd.</p><p><em>Dyad</em>.</p><p>Anakin doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t care. He just keeps following his Master, his General, the only thought on his mind – of how perfect the Jedi looks, wearing his Darkness. All dressed in <em>him</em>.</p><p> </p><p>When they finally reach the Temple, there is a huge crowd already gathered on the square before it.</p><p>“Praise the General!” they shout and cheer.</p><p>“Don’t praise <em>me!</em>”</p><p>Obi-Wan smiles, addressing them from the steps of the Kyber Temple over the thunder of applause. “Praise <em>the Force!</em>”</p><p>He raises his hand over his head, holding the stone disc he was given before the battle.</p><p>“On behalf of the Jedi Order, I open this Temple to <em>everyone </em>on Jedha as a sign of our eternal gratitude for your faith in us.”</p><p>The key slips from his fingers and floats slowly to the narrow, barely visible slot above the massive gates.</p><p>“The Council has no idea about any of this, do they?” Anakin mutters quietly into his Master’s ear.</p><p>The massive double stone leaves of the door slowly rattle open in the dead silence of the square.</p><p>“Not the slightest,” Obi-Wan chuckles and bows to the astonished crowd.</p><p>“May the Force be with you! Its Temple is now yours too!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N 0:</p><p>For those who might be a bit confused by the religious aspects of this chapter:<br/>I just loved the idea of Jedha from Rogue One - the planet the Jedi once lived on and then abandoned.<br/>The whole religious thing is not even mine though. It's actually Canon, and the real life parallels are pretty obvious.<br/>According to Wookieepedia, NiJedha is also known as the Holy City and was inspired by the sacred cities of Jerusalem and Mecca.<br/>The Jedi Order had a Temple there called the Temple of the Kyber. The temple was held sacred by the followers of the Church of the Force (a non-Force-sensitive equivalent of the Jedi Order).<br/>The Guardians of the Whills, much like real-life knights Templar, were a religious order that protected the Temple and the pilgrims who visited it.<br/>So…<br/>Anyway, I thought it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to imagine that the citizens of Jedha would keep their beliefs (even if somewhat primitive) even after the Jedi left.</p><p>A/N 1:</p><p>The score for when the Jedi arrive on Jedha and are met by the locals could be something like the first minute of this:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HwXo7Whfydw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HwXo7Whfydw</a></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A/N 2:</p><p>If you are interested, I imagine Anakin’s cover of Darkness would look something like this on Obi-Wan:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8b/00/19/8b0019aca54b8ba9c45a9c9b8b91edf8.jpg">https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8b/00/19/8b0019aca54b8ba9c45a9c9b8b91edf8.jpg</a></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A/N 3:</p><p>If you’d like an epic score for the Battle of the Holy City, you might want to check this out:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lD4J3eJk1iU">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lD4J3eJk1iU</a></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A/N:</p><p>My inspiration for this chapter:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/D2qz-z5WsAA2AYS?format=jpg&amp;name=small">https://pbs.twimg.com/media/D2qz-z5WsAA2AYS?format=jpg&amp;name=small</a></p><p> </p><p>As always, many thanks to my amazing beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Dress him in brocade and gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello there!<br/>Those who might be wondering about the religious undertones of the previous chapter, please go back and see the end notes: I've added a little explanation there just in case someone got confused.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Dyad in the Force. Two pieces of one soul, striving to be together.</p>
<p>Dear Force, <em>such</em> <em>drama!</em></p>
<p>No wonder the boy absolutely <em>loves</em> it.</p>
<p>Oh, <em>the look</em> on his face when, back on Jedha, he caught that local Togruta girl vandalizing their shuttle with red and yellow paint and made her explain what she meant by that! Obi-Wan can’t help but chuckle as he remembers it.</p>
<p>And now every ship in their joined fleets is parading the same red and yellow round graffiti on its hull.</p>
<p>
  <em>The Open Circle Armada. </em>
</p>
<p>Sounds pretty impressive. And judging by how fast the insignia is starting to appear on different surfaces all around Obi-Wan’s command ship, the clones love the idea too. </p>
<p>It seems so strange to Obi-Wan how they are so eager to bear the symbol the true meaning of which – the connection, the unity of a Force Dyad – they can never even hope to feel or understand. It is virtually as bad as if they actually wrote:</p>
<p>
  <em>Skywalker + Kenobi = ♥.</em>
</p>
<p>That is simply ridiculous! They are the Jedi, not teenagers! They are <em>above</em> all that. They are of a loftier nature. They are more sophisticated. They are–</p>
<p>“Master! Master! Look what I’ve made for you!”</p>
<p>His Padawan’s cheeks are stained an adorable shade of pink, and he is still a little breathless from running across the whole ship.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan gazes at how childishly happy and proud the boy looks, holding his freshly decorated vambrace, and huffs, shaking his head.</p>
<p>They are not above <em>shit</em>, are they? No, they are just as ridiculous as everyone else.</p>
<p>“It’s beautiful, darling." He smiles. "Help me put it on.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The heroes of the Republic.</em>
</p>
<p>When after a few more successful missions they finally return to Coruscant, their “impossible” victory on Jedha is all over the HoloNet. The Temple is under siege by reporters of all kinds and just curious citizens looking to snap a picture of the “Blessed General” and his “Mysterious Shadow”.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan rolls his eyes at the datapad in his hand, closing the page with the screaming headline, and proceeds to open his incoming messages.</p>
<p>The inbox is rather predictably full of invitations to dinners, balls, concerts and private events hosted by Senators, royalty and other influential people from all over the Galaxy. Everyone wants a piece of the famous Jedi General.</p>
<p>
  <em>Pretentious pricks.</em>
</p>
<p>Obi-Wan grimaces and scrolls down to the invitation the Council have <em>insisted</em> he should accept. It’s from Chancellor Palpatine himself, after all: the lecherous old bastard is having a gala to celebrate his victory. Or more like <em>parade</em> him in front of his high-ranking friends to promote the war the Senate is waging on the Galaxy.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan hates that. He wishes he could refuse to attend, but the Council are cross enough with him already after he reported giving the NiJedha Temple to the public without their permission.</p>
<p>
  <em>Permission!</em>
</p>
<p>After the trade routes had changed and Jedha had turned from a busy center of pilgrimage into a backwater planet, the Order abandoned its Temple there and completely forgot all about it. Forgot all about Jedha’s people – the people who have kept their loyalty to the Jedi for hundreds of years!</p>
<p>But to Obi-Wan’s utter dismay, the story of the faithful city that had brought reverent tears to his own eyes, did not touch the hearts of the Council members. They rejected his plea to send a couple of Jedi to the Holy City to teach its citizens the ways of the Force, having declared that the people were not sensitive enough to even truly feel the Force, let alone understand it.</p>
<p>“They are just peasants, Obi-Wan,” they said. “And they worship something that is beyond their comprehension. It is wrong. We should not encourage them.”</p>
<p>“But they could feel my Force presence, and I could feel theirs!” Obi-Wan wanted to object. But he didn’t. He knew it wouldn’t change anything. The Council’s decision had been made a long time ago.</p>
<p>Ever since Obi-Wan has known Anakin, he has been playing with droids. He used to put them together – now he only takes them apart. And he himself doesn’t use his voice to bring peace anymore either. They have both sacrificed a part of themselves in the war they want no part of, <em>and for what?</em></p>
<p>Faith and loyalty mean nothing to the Jedi Council anymore. Too bad Obi-Wan has only realized it now. Looks like Anakin has been right all along.</p>
<p>Well, at least Anakin could afford shouting and crying and throwing tantrums about it – Obi-Wan cannot. Anger is not the Jedi way.</p>
<p>He breathes, breathes through the bitter tears in his eyes, pushing down the scream of betrayal clawing out of his throat.</p>
<p>He hears a distant rumble of thunder. Except, it’s not exactly so distant anymore. It resonates in Obi-Wan’s chest, shaking his entire being.</p>
<p>Perhaps, the Son was telling the truth after all.</p>
<p>What would have happened on Jedha had Anakin not been there to wrap his Darkness around him?</p>
<p>What if it was only a glimpse of what’s to come?</p>
<p>What if he has been wrong from the start and the storm he has been expecting all these years is not even Anakin’s?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Master, you looked so upset earlier,” Anakin calls, using the Force to open the door while his hands are busy with a fragile porcelain cup. “I’ve made you...”</p>
<p><em>Crack!</em> </p>
<p>The cup shatters against the duracrete floor.</p>
<p>“…tea.”</p>
<p>“Anakin?” His Master whirls around to see the source of the disturbance, and Anakin has to brace himself on the doorframe to stay upright while his vision is being <em>attacked</em> by the sight of his Master’s form – awash in the streams of flowing silk.</p>
<p>The Jedi is wrapped in elaborate, pristinely white attire embroidered with intricate silvery patterns the likes of which Anakin has never seen before, especially not within the Temple walls. The fine fabric is in such startling contrast with the coarseweave the Jedi usually wear that Anakin feels slightly overwhelmed.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong, my Padawan?” The tails of his Master’s robes reaching the ground rustle softly behind him when he moves towards Anakin, and Anakin just watches his dreamy, dusk-suffused silhouette with starry eyes, speechless and unable to tear his gaze away.</p>
<p>
  <em>Are you an angel?</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin suddenly feels like the amazed little boy from Tatooine again. He can’t believe that it’s been almost eleven years since he was first staggered by his Master’s otherworldly appearance. Nothing has changed though. He still gets entranced to the point of dizziness every time.</p>
<p>“What is it, Ani?” his Master’s voice inquires, softer now, as the Jedi frowns in concern. “Are you unwell? You are somewhat pale, my dear.”</p>
<p>“Master…” Anakin breathes out shakily, his knuckles going white from his death grip on the doorframe. “You look…”</p>
<p>Anakin pauses, searching for the right word.</p>
<p>
  <em>Gorgeous. Heavenly. Magnificent. Tempting.</em>
</p>
<p>All of them are not even close to describing just how absolutely <em>breathtaking</em> his Master is.</p>
<p>“You look…”</p>
<p>“...ridiculous, I know,” Master huffs before Anakin can finish his thought.</p>
<p>“…<em>beautiful</em>.”</p>
<p>They both end up speaking at the same time, but the Jedi catches Anakin’s rapturous exhale anyway.</p>
<p>“Beautiful?” He frowns, puzzled, while bashful crimson is pouring generously onto Anakin’s cheeks. “Well, yes, just like I said. Ridiculous! I’m not supposed to look ‘beautiful’. I’m a war General, not a princess!”</p>
<p>“Well… Yes. No! I mean… I… I just–” Anakin mumbles, trying to mend the situation, but quickly gives it up and virtually <em>forces</em> himself to turn away.</p>
<p>He is almost out of control, he realizes as he presses his forehead to the doorframe, his eyes squeezed shut and his shoulders slumped.</p>
<p>“Ani, what is going on with you?” his Master presses, taking a step forward, his voice now full of concern.</p>
<p>“No, please!” Anakin’s hand shoots up in a forbidding gesture. “Master, please, stay back!”</p>
<p>The Jedi freezes in his tracks, his own hand reaching out to Anakin in a silent offer of help. Their fingertips almost touch, <em>almost</em> – but not quite, not really – freezing in the air less than an inch away.  </p>
<p>“Tell me, what is bothering you, Padawan?” His Master’s voice is soft and thick with compassion.</p>
<p>Anakin wants to cry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a barrier of the spilled tea and the broken porcelain between them, and Anakin praises the Force for that.</p>
<p>He can never do what his Master is asking of him. He can never <em>ever </em>tell him the truth.</p>
<p>No, his Master must remain blissfully unaware. He can never know of his apprentice’s dirty, forbidden desire. He will never understand. He will be appalled and disgusted to learn that his gentle care and his infinite benevolent indulgence is not enough for his Padawan, that he wants more. <em>Always more</em>.</p>
<p>But no matter how much Anakin likes to imagine otherwise, <em>never once</em> has his Master said or done anything even remotely inappropriate in his presence. Always chaste. Always beyond reproach. Impeccable snow-white robes are the only thing good enough for him, the only thing he should be wearing. And he can never know that Anakin, <em>his little Ani</em>, is shaking with his barely restrained desire to tear them off. Piece by piece. Until the only thing his Master is wearing is his Darkness.</p>
<p>It is not Obi-Wan Kenobi’s fault that his Padawan is a depraved, lustful monster. But that’s exactly what Anakin is. And monsters don’t deserve flawless, beautiful things. They can get them. They can even try to keep them for a while. But they still never <em>deserve</em> them. So however hard he tries, Anakin knows he will never be good enough for his Master, and it’s so completely, <em>painfully</em> obvious now. Never before has there been such a startling, truly overwhelming, <em>extreme</em> contrast between them.</p>
<p>And so he, who always wanted to break their barriers to the point of complete fusion, now is the one praying for the shards of porcelain to be the wall that can keep them apart.</p>
<p>He was always the one to beg his Master for any physical contact at all, and now look at him – coiling away from his comforting touch, not even sure if he can take as much without breaking down and telling him the truth about how he really feels.</p>
<p>No!<em> No</em>, he can’t do that. He <em>mustn’t</em> do that. If he can’t reach his Master’s level of enlightened serenity, it doesn’t mean he is allowed to drag him down to his own level – to his yawning abyss of passion. He must not do that. He must not. He must–</p>
<p>“Anakin!” His Master’s now stern voice breaks the agony of Anakin’s heaving breaths, and Anakin almost whines, pushing his forehead harder, harder into the cold, unyielding metal of the doorframe.</p>
<p>“A moment… Please, I just need a moment…”</p>
<p>But the porcelain is already cracking as it crumbles under his Master’s feet.</p>
<p>“Are you having a panic attack?” The soft palm on his shoulder jolts Anakin with an electric charge. His eyes snap wide open before he can stop them.</p>
<p>“Ani!” His Master draws back a little out of surprise. “Your eyes!”</p>
<p>“Sorry, Master!” Anakin whispers, quickly turning away, his fiery golden eyes downcast. “I can’t help it. My Darkness… It wants to <em>watch</em>.”</p>
<p>“Does it now?” The Jedi raises an eyebrow in half disbelief and half amusement. “Well, if that isn’t flattering…”</p>
<p>He chuckles softly as he turns on his hills and strolls back to his floor mirror under the burning gaze of the two wicked suns. “Perhaps, these garments aren't so bad after all.”</p>
<p>Anakin gulps. He knows his Master is smiling while observing him carefully through the mirror, but he just can’t help taking a few steps after him, as if pulled along by an invisible leash, before he can stop himself. But only barely.</p>
<p>His body is buzzing with the want – the <em>need</em> – to walk up behind his Master’s almost glowing figure and just press himself flush against his back. Slide his hands down his sides. Leave a hot, wet, hungry kiss on the milky, almost translucent skin of his neck. Breathe in his mouth-watering scent and breathe out ‘<em>I love you…</em>’</p>
<p>It’s all so clear, so vivid in Anakin’s thirsty imagination, as though he could actually do it. Just take another step and do it. Except he can’t. He can’t. He <em>can’t.</em></p>
<p>He chides himself for the ludicrous idea and hastily looks down and away from his Master’s silhouette sharply defined by the setting sun and wrapped in its veil of royal crimson.</p>
<p><em>Regal</em>. His Master looks regal.</p>
<p>This isn’t the first time the thought has occurred to Anakin. In fact, he’s been thinking about this day <em>a lot</em> – about the moment when he could finally give his Master a present and not listen to a lecture about how material possessions are not the Jedi way. Maybe today it could actually work. He has a good feeling about it.</p>
<p>Anakin dashes to his room and returns with a package in his hands.</p>
<p>“Master,” he calls between his nervous ragged breaths, “I have a gift for you. Will you allow it?”</p>
<p>The Jedi hums something unintelligible, deep in thought, as he keeps contemplating his image in the mirror with a grim expression.</p>
<p>
  <em>Not a princess.</em>
</p>
<p>But what about a king? Would he like to be a king?</p>
<p>Having decided that no clear objections is as good a permission as he’s ever going to get, Anakin tears the wrapping paper.</p>
<p>He approaches his Master very carefully, still not sure what his reaction might be, and drapes the heavy, luxurious fabric over his shoulders, allowing himself to trace his fingers over his Master’s deceptively fragile frame down to his elbows.</p>
<p>The brocade mantle spills around the Jedi like a crimson cascade, glistening with golden patterns.</p>
<p>Anakin holds his breath in awe, looking at his Master’s reflection in the mirror over his shoulder.</p>
<p>He truly is <em>royal </em>like that, and Anakin is standing so close, so close… He can’t hold back any longer.</p>
<p>“That’s how you are meant to be, Master,” Anakin murmurs before he gingerly wraps his arms around his Master’s waist over the expensive crimson and white of his garments, burying his face into his nape and almost fusing his open mouth to his porcelain neck with a wet, shuddering exhale.</p>
<p>Silence falls.</p>
<p>He’s done it. He’s actually done it. In real life. </p>
<p>His lips are ghosting over his Master’s skin with every breath he takes. Pity that there aren’t so many of those left… Master is totally gonna kill him.</p>
<p>Time seems to have frozen around them, and Anakin stands still too, awaiting his Master’s reaction, his eyes squeezed shut in the terrifying realization of his own boldness. He doesn’t dare to move. He doesn’t dare to speak. He only dares to hope. Hope that his Master will be merciful enough to just kill him <em>right now</em> for his obscene impertinence instead of throwing him out of the Temple and leaving him to die a horrible, painful death, deprived of his stellar essence…</p>
<p>Still, it is worth it. Holding his Master in his arms like this. Breathing him in. Feeling his skin under his lips. It’s well worth dying for. No regrets.</p>
<p>If only he could have just a few more moments…</p>
<p>He doesn’t want it to end. He doesn’t want to let go. Obi-Wan Kenobi is <em>his</em>. He will hold him forever. He won’t let go. He won’t!</p>
<p>Anakin mewls in distress and, instead of opening the circle of his arms, he stubbornly squeezes it even tighter.</p>
<p>Mine. <em>Mine</em>.</p>
<p>Anakin isn’t sure he hasn’t actually just growled it aloud like some wild beast, but Master relaxes in his embrace and leans against his chest, his hand reaching up to tangle in Anakin’s unruly curls.</p>
<p>“Oh, Ani." He laughs quietly, throwing his head back onto Anakin’s shoulder and letting his hot, ragged breath burn his pale, elegant throat. “You are such a sweet boy. You’ve always thought your old Master something akin to royalty, haven’t you?”</p>
<p>Anakin feels the ground shift under his feet when it dawns on him that Master still hasn’t pushed him away. That he is <em>allowing</em> this. Lenient with him as always.</p>
<p>“But like I told you back on Tatooine, I’m just a humble Jedi.” His reflection smiles at his silly little Padawan with infinite fondness. “And I’m afraid, it might require a crown and a kingdom to justify me wearing such a royal mantle, my dear.”</p>
<p>“I’ll get them for you, Master,” Anakin promises immediately, dead serious and completely ignoring the joking tone of his Master’s voice.</p>
<p>
  <em>I will show you that I am not a boy anymore. Not your little brother. I can be more. I want more!</em>
</p>
<p>“I’ll get you anything, anything. You'll be my Master, my General...my <em>King</em>,” he whispers fervently, accentuating every word with a worshipful kiss down his Master’s brocade-clad shoulder and running his trembling fingertips up and down his arms in absolute reverence, as if he can’t quite believe that he is allowed to hold and touch something this precious. “I’ll throw the entire Galaxy at your feet if you let me… Just say the word, Master.”</p>
<p>The Darkness is swirling around Anakin. Joyful. Triumphant.</p>
<p><strong><em>Yesss! Yesss, Anakin</em></strong>, it hisses. <strong><em>We must take care of him. We must provide for him to keep him. He is precious. He is ours. Ours!</em></strong></p>
<p>But Master just pushes Anakin’s arms away and escapes from his hold.</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>.” He shakes his head.</p>
<p>And Anakin’s heart skips a beat in despair: his Master must have heard his Darkness. He must be angry that Anakin still lets something – something <em>other than him</em> – whisper in his ear. Yes, he must be <em>furious</em>. Otherwise, why else would he call his lightsaber into his hand?</p>
<p>This must be it then – the end of his Master’s infinite patience.</p>
<p>He doesn’t ever talk about it, but Anakin knows exactly how he became the youngest Master in history when he was only nineteen and barely just knighted.</p>
<p>
  <em>He killed a Sith...</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin closes his eyes. His Sith yellow eyes. He doesn’t try to run. He doesn’t try to fight. He just waits obediently for the final stroke – for the sizzling heat that will cut him in half and end his miserable existence…</p>
<p>The final breaths. </p>
<p>The final heartbeats.</p>
<p>Three.</p>
<p>Two.</p>
<p>One.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A touch to his chest startles Anakin, almost making him jump. His eyelids fly open, and he just stares at the hilt of his Master’s lightsaber pressed into his tabards for what feels like eternity.</p>
<p>“There is no room for weapons in these robes,” Master clarifies with irritation. “You take it for me.”</p>
<p>“What?” Anakin blinks a few times dumbly, trying to comprehend the strange reality.</p>
<p>What is going on?</p>
<p>Is he not going to die?</p>
<p>Won’t there be punishment for taking such liberties as he just did, touching his Master without permission like some savage?</p>
<p>Anakin fails miserably to understand why his Master has decided to spare him, his disobedient Sith apprentice, but his hand curls around the offered lightsaber on autopilot anyway and presses it reverently back to his chest.</p>
<p>“But… But Master…” Just as automatically, Anakin echoes the words he’s heard from the Jedi so many, many times before. “This weapon is your life!”</p>
<p>“Well, I trust you with it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan is stalking in a graceful cascade of fluttering, rustling fabric, his heavy brocade cloak swaying softly behind him.</p>
<p>Anakin is following him quietly, two steps behind, the hungry yellow of his eyes hidden under the black cowl but never leaving Obi-Wan’s form.</p>
<p>In the dimly lit corridor, feeling how tense his apprentice is behind his back is an exquisite pleasure. Feeling desired is incredible. Feeling unattainable is delicious.</p>
<p>The look Anakin is caressing his back with makes Obi-Wan want to moan. He can almost feel its fire with his skin.</p>
<p>Anakin’s hunger is <em>alive</em>. It’s a beast prowling restlessly around him in circles but too afraid to pounce.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan sees, <em>feels</em> how much his Padawan wants him. Every day, every minute they spend together Anakin is devouring every feature of his face, every curve of his body with scalding-hot, undressing glances.</p>
<p>The boy can’t hide his feelings. He never could. He doesn’t even know how to – Obi-Wan never taught him. So if it’s rage – it’s with tantrums and broken furniture. If it’s protectiveness – it’s overboard and downright smothering. If it’s desire – it’s fiery, hungry and all-consuming. And Obi-Wan basks in that desire and only laughs quietly to himself at his poor apprentice.</p>
<p>The boy is so desperate in his attempts to impress and please him that it’s almost painful to watch. The way he hunches his shoulders, trying to appear smaller. The way he drops his gaze in deference or obedience. The way he is constantly almost shaking with restraint but doesn’t dare to touch him, exercising pretty impressive self-control for someone who barely knows what it is.</p>
<p>But no matter how much Anakin tries to rein in his lust, it is still very obviously, constantly, undeniably <em>there</em>.</p>
<p>Sometimes the live, burning embers of his aching want feel muffled by the ashes of his guilt and self-deprecation, but they are still always glowing, always pulsing with need. And most times, his craving just spills all around him in the Force like burning hot lava. It engulfs him completely, setting him on fire and making him scream for his Master.</p>
<p>
  <em>Help me!</em>
</p>
<p>But Obi-Wan turns around and walks away every time, leaving him burning.</p>
<p>It only fuels his obsession.</p>
<p>
  <em>Master! Master! Master!</em>
</p>
<p>He calls for him in his sleep. He calls for him in the Force. He calls for him every minute of every day, bombarding Obi-Wan’s essence with his vibrating, pulsing, roaring presence. It has been suffusing every single moment of Obi-Wan’s time ever since he took Anakin on as his Padawan. Nothing else can hold his attention for more than a minute, no matter how hard Obi-Wan tries to distract him from himself or reroute his smothering affections. The boy seems desperate enough to be content with getting but a drop of his Master’s attention in exchange for all of his own.</p>
<p>Yes, his Padawan is obviously obsessed with him. But what does it matter now? The whole point of getting Anakin so attached to him was so that he could stop him from falling to the Dark Side. But Anakin fell anyway, so all of Obi-Wan’s efforts had been in vain. He couldn’t keep his promise to the Daughter. He failed his mission.</p>
<p>Although, come to think of it, he never promised he would keep Anakin Skywalker from falling. He wanted to, of course, with all his heart. He believed he could. He had <em>faith</em>. But he should have chosen his words more carefully when he begged the Light Side not to interfere, to let him tame Anakin’s Dark fire. In his prayers he never actually asked the Force to help him keep Anakin from falling – he only implored it to let him make his Padawan <em>bow to the Light in him</em>.</p>
<p>And he has, hasn’t he?</p>
<p>The Dark Side’s heir is faithful to him and him alone, too desperate in his obsession to care about Sides at all.</p>
<p>A touch lingering just a moment longer than it should; a step to stand just a few inches closer than strictly necessary; a soft smile full of indulgence instead of a reprimand – that’s all it takes to make Anakin Skywalker writhe and whimper with need. He is always so <em>thirsty</em> for his Master, poor thing.</p>
<p>
  <em>My Darkness… It wants to watch.</em>
</p>
<p>Maybe that’s why the boy never looks away from him, as though his Darkness is the empty night sky, and Obi-Wan’s star is the only one shining on it. And Anakin is ready to cut his fingers until they bleed, over and over again, trying to hold that prickly star in his palms, his Darkness uselessly attempting to wrap around it but only tearing itself to pieces on the sharp edges of its cold rays. The Darkness is crying and bleeding, but still…<em>it wants to watch.</em></p>
<p>Only watch?</p>
<p>What else does it want?</p>
<p>It clings to Obi-Wan, caresses him, calls him <em>Master</em>. And Obi-Wan allows it.</p>
<p>It is thick, and velvety, and more exquisitely luxurious than any brocade. And Obi-Wan wears it.</p>
<p>It is a tamed beast fawning on him, begging to be fed. And Obi-Wan pets it.</p>
<p>It speaks to him in Anakin’s voice, offering him the world, promising him its power, coaxing him to let it in. And Obi-Wan listens to it. Sometimes.</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>…Look at the boy I brought to you, Obi-Wan. He is my way of showing you how much I adore you.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Ever since I first saw you through his eyes, I have been entranced. I can’t look away. I am blind to everything but you, just like our little Ani is.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>So what if his love is nothing more than a fruit of your art? Don’t you still want to be loved by him? By us?</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>You’ve masterfully manipulated him into idolizing you, so why are you so reluctant to finally get what you have worked so hard for?</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Ah, but no matter. You are powerless to fight his grip on you anyway, so just abandon your duty to the Order. Forget your Jedi oaths. Be his God instead. Let him worship you. Let him lay his life on your altar.</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>After all, I only created him for your pleasure, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He is all yours. Use him however you want…</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>Yes, the Darkness is right: Anakin Skywalker is all his to use. The poor, helpless boy – entirely at his mercy. And that thought alone makes Obi-Wan want to <em>ruin</em> him. Right here, right in this dimly lit corridor. All it would take is one word.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Kneel.”</em>
</p>
<p>And Anakin would. Of course he would. He always does. </p>
<p>And he would look up at him with his pleading eyes. And he would writhe, and pant, and beg.</p>
<p>“Please, Master!”</p>
<p>“Fuck my mouth, Master!”</p>
<p>“Shove your dick down my throat till I can't breathe, Master!”</p>
<p>No shame.</p>
<p>No restraint.</p>
<p>
  <em>Sheer obscenity.</em>
</p>
<p>That’s what Anakin Skywalker is.</p>
<p>He would moan Obi-Wan’s name over and over again like a stupid little cock slut. In a public place. For anyone to hear. Until Obi-Wan finally grabs a fistful of his hair and pushes his dick into that dirty little mouth of his just to make him shut up.</p>
<p>And he would tremble, and cry, and choke himself on his Master’s cock, moaning, and drooling, and swallowing around it like a good boy. And he would come without even touching himself – just from his Master’s cock in his mouth and his Master’s voice pouring filth and praise into his ears while he fucks him. </p>
<p>And the boy would just take it,<em> take it beautifully</em>, looking up at Obi-Wan from under his wet eyelashes and begging him in the Force.</p>
<p>
  <em>Come in my mouth, Master! Please! Please, I need it so badly!</em>
</p>
<p>And he would swallow it all. Of course he would. And not just that. Afterwards, he would actually <em>thank</em> him – would kiss his knuckles and thank him, over and over again, looking up at him with his worshipful doe eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you! I love you! I love you!”</p>
<p>Oh, stars, such<em> filth! </em>Such a <em>ludicrous, indecent, disastrous </em>picture...</p>
<p>But Obi-Wan wants that. Force help him, he <em>does</em>. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows it is forbidden. But he still desires it so kriffing much – that unrestrained desire still somehow inexplicably bottled inside the boy and only betrayed by those greedy amber gazes he throws at his beloved Master. And <em>oh</em>, it is so dear to him, that wicked fire of his Padawan’s wild eyes.</p>
<p>And while Anakin is so inexplicably mesmerized by his cold Light, Obi-Wan thinks, with a sinking heart, that he might be – <em>oh no!</em>  – in love with his soft, warm Darkness...</p>
<p>Oh, <em>the irony!..</em></p>
<p>
  <em>But enough of this!</em>
</p>
<p>Obi-Wan cringes inwardly, pushing the vivid, scalding hot images flooding his vision out of his mind, and quickens his steps.</p>
<p>However tempting the voice of the Darkness might be, he is smarter than this. He won’t be swayed by words and promises of flaming, passionate love.</p>
<p>Every youngling knows what usually happens in the name of love and passion.</p>
<p>Eyes of gold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The venue is lit by thousands and thousands of floating lights glimmering like stars under the high arched ceiling.</p>
<p>Diamonds and gold, vanity and hypocrisy – everything is multiplied in the reflections of the full-length mirrors decorating the walls.</p>
<p>The crowd is moving, roiling and swirling with a murmur of feeble surf, and parts before his Master like waves of an ocean for a sailing ship.</p>
<p>Anakin trails after him, his head lowered but a proud smile grazing his lips. <em>Finally</em> his Master is getting the level of respect he deserves.</p>
<p>The Jedi looks entirely in his element, as if he was born to strut proudly like an Emperor among hastily bowing Senators, but Anakin… Never in his entire life has Anakin felt so <em>inadequate</em>, so out of place as he does now, under the appraising glances of the noble guests, as he stands awkwardly behind his Master’s shoulder with his hands tucked in behind his back and listens to him speak in his posh tone, low, and rich, and laced with authority.</p>
<p>Anakin has accompanied the Negotiator a hundred times before, but never once has anyone looked at him the way they look at his Master – with a mixture of awe and deference. All he ever gets is mocking or disdainful glances. Sometimes it’s pity though. Okay, <em>most of the time</em> it’s pity.</p>
<p>Master Kenobi’s poor apprentice – the reckless spitfire will never be able to even grasp the level of his teacher’s art, let alone achieve it. The silly little thing. </p>
<p>It’s okay though. Anakin doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t know how to contain his emotions or deceive or talk people into doing things. He is not a Jedi Consular like his Master – he is a Jedi Guardian, and all he knows is how to fight. He loves to fight. He <em>needs</em> to fight. He isn’t sure who exactly.</p>
<p>Anyone.</p>
<p><em>Everyone</em>.</p>
<p>Everyone his Master flirts with. Men and women, thugs and nobles, allies and enemies – he entices them all. Alluring and tempting, provocative and silver-tongued. Honestly, Anakin has no idea why they call him the Negotiator and not the Flirt. Because he does flirt with <em>the whole kriffing world</em>, dammit!</p>
<p>Anakin wants to see that world <em>burn.</em> He wants his Master to see only him. <em>Just him</em> in the entire universe. And if it requires him standing on the pile of bones and ashes of his Master’s admirers (headed by that bitch Duchess Satine), so be it. However high-ranking and powerful and influential they are, he will raze them from their thrones and burn their capitals. He will destroy their planets completely. He will–</p>
<p>“General Kenobi! What a pleasure!” A sugary-sweet voice drags Anakin out of his grim musings. “I am glad you have decided to grace us all with your presence. This gala is in <em>your</em> honor after all!”</p>
<p>“Chancellor Palpatine.” His Master’s head tips forward in greeting. Just slightly.</p>
<p>Anakin’s eyebrows quirk in amazement: the Chancellor is the most powerful man in the Republic, yet his Master – the same man who greets even slave boys with a respectful bow – has barely so much as nodded in response to the Chancellor’s flattery.</p>
<p>
  <em>No respect.</em>
</p>
<p>Now that is interesting.</p>
<p>Anakin tilts his head to the side, observing the Chancellor with open curiosity. The old man levels him with a contemptuous once-over in response.</p>
<p>“Is it really necessary for your…<em>guard</em> to be here, General?” he takes a step closer to the Jedi, leaning in to speak, his voice lowering conspiratorially as if to create an illusion of privacy but still loud enough for Anakin to hear. “Why is he dressed as though he is on his way to a funeral? His dismal appearance is disturbing the guests. He looks like such a…<em>brute</em>.”</p>
<p>Anakin sees red. But not because of the outright insult or even the fact that the old jerk talks about him like he isn’t <em>right kriffing there</em>. No, it’s because Anakin has just watched, with his tunnel vision zooming in dramatically, how the Chancellor’s bony, wrinkled hand landed on his Master’s forearm in a <em>patronizing</em> manner.</p>
<p>
  <em>How dare he!</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin thought he could restrain himself from acting like an angry child or a jealous lover for once, but, apparently, he was wrong. Rage is rising inside him like a tidal wave. He doesn’t care that the old fucker is the Chancellor of the Republic. He doesn’t care that they are in a room full of people. He has been generous enough today, allowing them all to speak and flirt with his Master.</p>
<p>But nobody touches him. <em>Nobody</em>.</p>
<p>Two hilts spring into his hands under the cover of his wide sleeves. A step forward and–</p>
<p>“Oh, I am sorry, Chancellor.” The Jedi’s voice is dripping with derision as he shakes the old man’s palm off his arm and speaks up, deliberately drawing everyone’s attention.</p>
<p>He turns to Anakin with a smirk and quirks an eyebrow, watching his murderous expression quickly turn into a wide-eyed, dumbfounded one when his arm slips around his waistline.</p>
<p>Anakin’s stomach turns a somersault when he is suddenly pressed affectionately into his Master’s side and pushed a little forward, in front of everyone.</p>
<p>“My apologies for your inconvenience, Senators, but this ‘brute’ is the Padawan I raised, and now a Jedi Commander of the GAR, Anakin Skywalker.” </p>
<p>All eyes are suddenly on him, and Anakin feels lightheaded and almost sways, not used to being the center of everyone’s attention. </p>
<p>“...and I rather like him this way.”</p>
<p>His Master’s words thunder proudly across the venue, over the turned heads of the hushed guests, and in the next moment, the whole crowd has a wonderful opportunity to watch Anakin’s cheeks flare.</p>
<p>No matter how much Anakin desires his Master’s praise, he has never learned to actually take it: he always gets reduced to a squirming, abashed mess – with two red blotches across his cheeks and close to tears.</p>
<p>Only it isn’t embarrassment this time that got him like that. No, it’s sheer, undiluted, triumphant <em>joy</em>.</p>
<p>“I know how hard you are working to control yourself, Ani.” Anakin’s heart skips a beat when his Master murmurs softly, leaning closer and propping himself with a hand pressed against Anakin’s chest. “I’m so proud of you.”</p>
<p>The words are quiet, barely audible. They are not for everyone to hear like before. They are for Anakin alone. And they make him feel like a child or a pet being praised for good behavior, but Anakin forgets how to breathe anyway. There is just white static in his head, and he thinks distractedly that it might be because his brain has simply liquified and turned into a sweet puddle of happiness.</p>
<p>He has always craved his Master’s praise, always wanted his approval and encouragement. No one else’s but his. And now he’s finally gotten it all without having to fish or beg for it like he used to do as a kid.</p>
<p>Anakin lowers his head and squeezes his eyes shut to prevent the hot tears from spilling out.</p>
<p>
  <em>He is a good boy.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s done well.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Master is proud of him.</em>
</p>
<p>The gala continues to buzz around him, but his thoughts are far, far away. He follows his Master on autopilot and listens absentmindedly to the endless flow of praise, compliments and flattery that people lavish on them both now, but the only thing on his mind is how he has been allowed to stand at his Master’s side, his arm supporting his elegant pale hand.</p>
<p>Everyone is looking at him, and he is only looking at his Master – with breathless attention – his head inclined slightly to watch him with eyes full of stars.</p>
<p>He is the only thing Anakin sees.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They want his speech. Of course they do. They want a pat on the back and a reassurance that their cause is just from the famous Jedi General himself.  </p>
<p>Obi-Wan cringes inwardly and steps onto the dais after Palpatine’s brief introduction speech.</p>
<p>He is the Order’s official delegate and the one to speak on its behalf. He’s done it countless times before, yet now he is reluctant: it doesn’t feel right to use his voice to justify the policy he doesn’t believe in. But the Council have decided that the Order should stand with the Republic no matter what – the majority have spoken, and Obi-Wan has no choice but to comply.</p>
<p>Hardly has he opened his mouth, when the massive doors of the hall burst open.</p>
<p>“General Kenobi!” a sharp voice calls out, drawing attention to a young female Senator with very distinctly and elaborately arranged hair.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan has to make an effort not to roll his eyes.</p>
<p>
  <em>Such drama!</em>
</p>
<p>The crowd parts to let the woman through, and her voice rings while she stalks from the ballroom’s entrance to the dais, weirdly determined. “Why are you here, all dressed up? Where is your armor? Why aren’t you on the battlefield, fighting for the Republic, where you are supposed to be?”</p>
<p>A wave of shocked gasps and murmurs runs through the crowd of guests.</p>
<p>The Senator raises her chin defiantly as she looks up at Obi-Wan. <em>Fight me!</em></p>
<p>When Obi-Wan doesn’t immediately take her bait, she challenges again, her tone mocking, “I hear that initially you even <em>refused</em> to lead our military operations. Are you a coward, General?” </p>
<p>“This is outrageous!” Anakin exclaims, stepping forward from behind Obi-Wan’s shoulder, the hilt of his lightsaber in his hand. “How dare you speak to the General like that!”</p>
<p>“Senator Amidala! This is highly inappropriate!” the Chancellor exclaims in agreement from Obi-Wan’s other side.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan raises his palm, stopping the both of them.</p>
<p>“No, this is fine. I will answer the Senator.”</p>
<p>The crowd shifts and hums in agitation.</p>
<p>“I am here as a guest of honor upon the Chancellor’s official request. And I am ‘all dressed up’ like this for your own sake,” Obi-Wan states, his voice calm and just a little derisive. “The Chancellor highly doubted that his esteemed guests would enjoy seeing me the way I usually am these days – reeking of smoke and drenched in the blood of <em>your war</em>.”</p>
<p>The room falls silent.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan watches the witty retort die on Senator Amidala’s lips. She is standing there, out of words, opening and closing her mouth like a stranded fish, and Obi-Wan even feels pity for her. Alas, but, as he keeps telling Anakin, youthful vehement idealism isn’t everything.</p>
<p>“As for your accusations, Senator Amidala...” Obi-Wan takes a step forward, his posture only slightly menacing, just enough to make the girl feel exactly as she should – <em>intimidated</em>. “I do not believe I am in any way <em>obliged</em> to fight your battles in the first place.”</p>
<p>“The Jedi are supposed to fight for our people!” the Senator shrieks stubbornly, even though the blush of embarrassment at being told off like a little girl is already spreading over her face, and she is clearly regretting her rather undignified outburst.   </p>
<p>“Indeed, Senator,” Obi-Wan nods, tilting his head just slightly, “but as <em>guardians</em>, not soldiers. We are here to <em>protect</em>, not attack<em>.</em>”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, to Sith hell with the Council’s decision. He will tell them exactly what he thinks.</em>
</p>
<p>“For thousands of years the Order has served the people of your Republic, but now it is falling apart, and it is not the Jedi’s place to hold it together after your politics failed to do so.”</p>
<p>From the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan sees Anakin cross his arms and take a little step back, behind his left shoulder, with a quiet chuckle.</p>
<p>
  <em>Give them hell, Master!</em>
</p>
<p>Obi-Wan lifts his gaze from the little Senator and looks intently around the room. </p>
<p>The guests shift uncomfortably under his piercing stare. None of them dares to come to their colleague’s aid.<em> The cowards.</em></p>
<p>“The Jedi are not your mercenaries, Senators,” he addresses them coldly. “We serve the people of our own free will. Even the <em>ungrateful</em> ones like you, Senator Amidala.”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s gaze lands on her again, and she looks like she is about to burst into tears. She is still a child. She has no business being a Senator. No wonder the Republic is falling.</p>
<p>“This is preposterous!” she scoffs, fuming with indignation. “This is exactly why even your own Order secretly calls you a Renegade!”</p>
<p>There is dead silence in the room again. It seems everyone is holding their breaths, awaiting Obi-Wan’s response.</p>
<p>“Ah, dear me! Do they now?” he exclaims, dramatically pressing his palm to his chest in mock surprise. Anakin chokes on a snort behind his back and hastily tries to cover it up with a cough. “I see you are very well informed, Senator. Then I am sure you are aware that they also call me <em>the Negotiator</em>?”</p>
<p>She doesn’t answer, scowling at him, and Obi-Wan’s lips part with a downright predatory grin as he explains with open derision, “You see, I used to negotiate peace. Now I only negotiate <em>war</em>.”</p>
<p>His smile disappears so suddenly that the Senator gives a little shudder, startled by the dark, dangerous expression on Obi-Wan’s face.</p>
<p>“You people seem to just <em>love</em> giving me names, don’t you? I was a <em>Master Jedi</em> – now I’m a <em>General</em>, at your whim, just because a bunch of politicians can’t agree on anything between themselves.”</p>
<p>“How dare you!” Senator Amidala chokes out, affronted. Her voice is trembling with indignation on the verge of tears. “A Jedi or a General – it is your <em>duty</em> to obey orders and fight for the Republic!”</p>
<p>“I do not answer to any secular authorities. And I <em>most certainly</em> do not answer to <em>you</em>, Senator Amidala.” Obi-Wan pauses solemnly for a moment, standing high and proud above the crowd of the pompous Senators. “My duty is to the Force alone. I <em>shall</em> fight if that is its will. I’ll be <em>its</em> General, not <em>yours</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Senator Amidala is the first to stagger back with a yelp and a hand covering her mouth. The other guests follow suit, drawing back with startled cries and gasps of terror and astonishment.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows in surprise at the strange reaction to his words.</p>
<p>“What–” He turns to Anakin, but he is no better.</p>
<p>His Padawan freezes with a shocked gasp and just stares at him, his eyes huge and his mouth agape.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan follows his gaze to his own chest – to where the Jedi Order’s winged insignia is <em>bleeding</em> through the white silk of his robes, a red coat of arms spilling onto it.</p>
<p>“What the–” Obi-Wan turns to look into one of the mirrors on the wall…and freezes too, his expression a perfect copy of his Padawan’s.</p>
<p>He stares at his reflection, and his reflection stares back, with a crown of sharp obsidian spikes slowly rising up heavenward from his artfully tousled auburn locks…</p>
<p>The magnificent jagged headpiece seems to be glowing softly from the inside, as if inexplicably radiating both Light and Darkness at the same time, as if it were alive…</p>
<p><em>Impossible</em>.</p>
<p>But there are flames dancing reflected on its black, glassy surface. Flames of the battles awaiting him. Flames of the fire he once swore to tame. Flames of passion waiting to engulf his serenity…</p>
<p>A crest and a crown. The gifts from both Sides of the Force. Promises of martyrdom or power.</p>
<p>Which will he choose? </p>
<p>What will he be?</p>
<p>A knight or a king? </p>
<p>A protector or a conqueror? </p>
<p>A Jedi or a Sith?</p>
<p>“Master?” His Padawan’s alarmed voice tears Obi-Wan out of his mesmerized state, bringing him back to the buzzing, exclaiming, gasping chaos of the ballroom.</p>
<p>“Get me out of here,” Obi-Wan rasps, his fingers digging into his apprentice’s forearm. “I must return to the Temple immediately.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Master.”</p>
<p>The cerulean blades blaze alight.</p>
<p>“Out of our way, Senators!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N:<br/>I don’t suppose Obi-Wan’s ceremonial robes would stray too far from the original Jedi attire, so they would probably be somewhere along the lines of this:<br/><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/7d/db/2d/7ddb2dcedda08cb4e8d33e971b61fab4.jpg">https://i.pinimg.com/564x/7d/db/2d/7ddb2dcedda08cb4e8d33e971b61fab4.jpg</a></p>
<p>Also, if you are interested, I imagine Obi-Wan’s crown would look a lot like Sauron’s from The Silmarillion:<br/><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ee/88/67/ee88674c5895ca615050e9ecf4c8ef41.jpg">https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ee/88/67/ee88674c5895ca615050e9ecf4c8ef41.jpg</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <a href="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a7/90/a6/a790a68518bd0e37afe6dd99da2f6415.jpg">https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a7/90/a6/a790a68518bd0e37afe6dd99da2f6415.jpg</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>As always, many thanks to my amazing beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong><br/>I wish I could reach across the ocean and hug her for putting up with my constant overthinking and oversharing</p>
<p> </p>
<p> UPD.</p>
<p><strong>havenothingtodowithme</strong> has made an <a href="https://havenothingtodowithme.tumblr.com/post/633003384625053697/obi-wan-follows-his-gaze-to-his-own-chest-to">amazing illustration for this chapter</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Lie to him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello there!</p>
<p>Check out <strong>havenothingtodowithme</strong>'s <a href="https://havenothingtodowithme.tumblr.com/post/633003384625053697/obi-wan-follows-his-gaze-to-his-own-chest-to">amazing illustration for the previous chapter</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Believe me, Masters, we <em> must </em> investigate the threat!”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan is standing before the Council, his face solemn and his crimson mantle a bright, alarming spot, like a smear of blood, against the gray twilight of the round chamber. He tugs at the heavy fabric, wrapping it tighter around himself to cover up the fact that underneath it…he is still shaking.</p>
<p>He is no longer wearing the crown (he left it with Anakin when he ordered him to wait in their quarters), but he can still feel its presence lying heavy on his head, almost making him slump under its burden. But he is still standing tall, brimming with vehement intensity. He doesn’t need any more gifts from the Dark Side – he already has one, and he is barely managing to control him, so <em> no, thank you. </em></p>
<p>“We’ve been over this,” Windu reminds him, making no effort whatsoever to hide his annoyance. “And you said it yourself, Kenobi: there was no indication that the attack on the Jedha Temple had been launched by a Sith Lord.”</p>
<p>“I said there was no <em> proof </em>,” Obi-Wan corrects him coldly, “but the malicious intent was obvious. Why else would the Separatists have wanted to get inside a Jedi Temple if not sent by a Sith?”</p>
<p>“Come to your senses, Obi-Wan!” Kit Fisto appeals to reason. “What are you saying? One Sith Lord is behind a Galaxy-wide war? That is simply ridiculous!”</p>
<p>“Masters, let us go to Korriban, their planet of origin.” Obi-Wan gives the Council an imploring look. “There you shall see that I am right. If their ancient Temple has been accessed recently, it will mean that they are truly back and we should all prepare to face them.”</p>
<p>“You have just gained a huge victory on Jedha, Kenobi.” Depa Billaba’s voice is nothing if not condescending, clearly indicating that she thinks Obi-Wan is delusional. “It must have been very hard on you. Perhaps, you should just rest for a couple of w–”</p>
<p>“There is no time!” Obi-Wan interrupts her, irritated and rather unceremonious in his fervent impatience. “It is slipping like sand through our fingers! Our main victory lies ahead, Masters. We must launch a preemptive attack before the Sith destroys first us and then the entire Galaxy.”</p>
<p>“Obi-Wan–” Ki-Adi-Mundi’s holo-projection tries to pacify him, but Obi-Wan doesn’t let him finish.</p>
<p>“You were the ones who made me a General, Masters. Now give me troops. I must go!”</p>
<p>“No, Obi-Wan, you must stay! We need you <em> here </em>,” Adi Gallia insists with undisguised urgency. “There’s only greed and flattery in the Senate. We can’t navigate it without your expertise.”</p>
<p>But Obi-Wan remains adamant.</p>
<p>“Give me an army! I am begging you!” His fists clench with desperation against his thighs.</p>
<p>The Council members draw back visibly under the fierce emotion in Obi-Wan’s voice.</p>
<p>“<em> Passionate </em> about this, you are, Master Kenobi,” Master Yoda notes thoughtfully, observing Obi-Wan with badly concealed wonder. “Brought this on, what has, hmm?”</p>
<p>“I see the will of the Force in it, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan bows to the Grand Master as he addresses him, almost visibly straining to remain calm and stand still while his body is brimming with this urgent need to move, to go, to <em>do</em> <em>something. </em>Before it’s too late.</p>
<p>For once in his entire life, Obi-Wan feels that talking isn’t enough anymore. And with astonishment, he realizes that this must be what being Anakin Skywalker feels like: like being tied to a running-humming-vibrating hyperspace drive. Always on the move, knowing no calm or peace, unable to stop, not for a single moment. <em> Infinite chaos. Infinite pain… </em></p>
<p>Obi-Wan almost sways on his unsteady feet, feeling like he might die if someone’s merciless hand doesn’t stop shaking the snow globe of his serenity soon.</p>
<p>“A vision, did you have?” Grand Master Yoda shifts in his seat, leaning forward a little with curiosity.</p>
<p>“No.” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Not a vision but a <em> sign </em>.”</p>
<p>Windu huffs with contempt and disbelief, leaning back against his seat. “And what would that ‘sign’ of yours be, Kenobi?”</p>
<p>“This,” Obi-Wan whispers brokenly, tugging at the flaps of his mantle and letting everyone see the ominous bloody stain on the white of his ceremonial robes.</p>
<p>The room erupts with stunned gasps and exclamations.</p>
<p>“Now do you believe me?” Obi-Wan’s gaze is sharp when he circles the Councilors with it. “We should go to Korriban before there’s blood on every one of our brothers’ and sisters’ chests.”</p>
<p>The room buzzes with agitated discussion, and only Master Yoda seems to be falling deeper and deeper into his thought, but for once, Obi-Wan doesn’t have neither time nor patience for all that.</p>
<p>“Grand Master, why are you silent?” he pushes with emphasis, taking a step forward.</p>
<p>The green goblin startles, his ears shooting up in surprise.</p>
<p>“Unclear the future is,” he finally states. “Wait we should.”</p>
<p>“But we can’t wait a day!” Obi-Wan exclaims in despair and looks at the other Jedi intently. “I am going to Korriban. Who will go with me?”</p>
<p>“Obi-Wan, what are you doing?” Plo Koon cautions.</p>
<p>“He is insane to contradict the Grand Master!” Windu rears up immediately, and the chorus of shouting, arguing voices rises along with him.</p>
<p>And for the first time in forever, Obi-Wan is forced to raise his voice too.</p>
<p>“Who will follow me into battle against the Sith?” he calls over the angry hum. “Who will come with me to Korriban?”</p>
<p>“Where you’re going, there is no place for us, Kenobi,” Depa Billaba snaps. “The Dark Side is too strong there. It will simply consume us!”</p>
<p>“No Jedi in their right mind will go to that cursed planet!” Windu spits out. “That ‘sign’ of yours is nothing but a trap. So go alone if you wish!”</p>
<p>And the rest echo:</p>
<p>“Go alone!”</p>
<p>“Go alone!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “This is a manifestation of the Force. It is its gift. It is its will, Master!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “No, Anakin. This is the crown of Darkness. And I will not be the one to wear it.” </em>
</p>
<p>His Master’s words are still ringing in Anakin’s head, and his fingers are still clutching at the sharp spikes of his Master’s black crown when he calls out to her.</p>
<p>“Senator Amidala!”</p>
<p>“Who’s there?” She startles and whips around, halfway to her ship.</p>
<p>She shouldn’t have accepted the Chancellor’s invitation for a glass of wine in private. She shouldn’t have stayed in his office until this late. She shouldn’t have dismissed her guards. She shouldn’t have gone to the dimly lit landing platform alone. She shouldn’t have...</p>
<p>“You’ve had the audacity to call my Master a coward.” Anakin’s menacing figure slowly melts out of the shadows.</p>
<p>“Ah, it’s you, <em> the ardent disciple </em>,” she exhales with relief, visibly relaxing and her arrogant posture slipping back into place as she outright taunts him. “Would you have preferred it if I had called him by his other names instead?”</p>
<p>She raises an eyebrow, her voice dripping with mockery as she suggests, “the Tempter, perhaps? Or the Dragon? The Father of Lies?”</p>
<p>She takes a step forward with each word, clearly feeling more and more powerful in her element of verbal sparring.</p>
<p>“You know, the Devil has so many names… But let me guess,” she gives Anakin an appraising once-over, “you didn’t even <em> sell </em> your soul to him – no, you must have given it for free. You probably even <em> begged </em> him to take it, didn’t you? And then, of course, you gave him yet another name. You chose to call him your <em> Master </em>.”</p>
<p>Anakin gives the Senator a long, incredulous look.</p>
<p>
  <em> Is she for real? What kind of nonsense is that? The Devil? What, like the sly Serpent from the stories of old? Seriously? What a ludicrous, absurd– Although… Hasn’t he heard something like that once already?  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ah, yes. </em>
</p>
<p>Anakin chuckles darkly: that’s what the Separatists were screaming while dying and burning outside the walls of NiJedha.</p>
<p>
  <em> The Devil. </em>
</p>
<p>It’s just the stuff of legends, of course, but the very idea that there might be something dark and dangerous hidden underneath his Master's carefully constructed facade is...weirdly fascinating – both <em> ridiculous </em> and strangely, mysteriously <em> alluring </em> at the same time.</p>
<p>Anakin shakes his head, hoping to clear it from the uncanny excitement suddenly fogging his mind.</p>
<p>“You are delusional, Senator,” he states sharply, trying to make his own voice sound more convinced and not at all intrigued by her allegations. He takes a step forward, his eyes glimmering under his cowl. “My Master is not some boogeyman from the times of the Old Republic. He is the brightest star. Anyone can see that.”</p>
<p>“My point exactly! The Devil once was the brightest of the angels who is said to have rebelled against the god of the Old Republic,” she parries immediately, making Anakin falter mid-stride, as though she has slapped him across the face.</p>
<p>“What? You didn’t know that?” she asks, her tone mocking, having noticed Anakin’s obvious confusion. “Have you even read any of the books in those Archives of yours? Or did you just look at the pictures?” </p>
<p>“Well, I–” Anakin stutters, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment.</p>
<p>He closes his eyes for one moment, and suddenly, instead of the abstract face of the beautiful angel, it’s his Master’s face that is gazing graciously upon a ten-year-old Anakin from the dust-covered page of the old volume he loved so much.</p>
<p>A former slave boy, back then he was only starting to learn how to spell words, so <em> no </em>, he didn’t actually read the stories. Written in intricate, ornate language, they seemed too complicated to him, so up to this moment, he’s only ever known bits and pieces – never the whole story. </p>
<p><em> Can it be real? Can his Master actually be that angel </em> – <em> the one who dared to defy the higher power? It has always been only in Anakin’s head. A beautiful story he created for himself to believe in. But what if it’s actually true? </em></p>
<p>
  <em> What if… </em>
</p>
<p>“The Rebel…” Anakin whispers in astonishment with only his lips. “So that’s what it meant!”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you’ve seen <em> that </em> book too,” Senator Amidala raises her eyebrow in wonder and immediately presses, seeing Anakin’s momentary confusion. “Then you have to know I’m telling the truth. In his rebellion, Obi-Wan Kenobi will destroy the Jedi Order, the Republic and the world itself if we don’t stop him. Help me, his deceived apprentice!”</p>
<p>“Stop him?” Anakin huffs, his eyebrows lifting dramatically in surprise. He didn’t expect her to be <em> this </em> stupid: after all, who in their right mind would ask him, Anakin Skywalker, the loyal Padawan, to betray Obi-Wan Kenobi?</p>
<p>Anakin is left speechless for a moment, struggling to believe it is actually happening to him: <em> the nerve </em> of this girl! Then he virtually has to force himself to remain focused and not to burst out in hysterical laughter at the sheer irony of this whole situation. Although, some things are starting to make more sense now…</p>
<p>“Do you see this Dark crown, Senator?” Anakin chuckles, raising his hand and showing off the headpiece. “The Force itself has crowned my Master with it. He might be reluctant now, but one day, he will agree to wear it, and <em> I </em> will be the one to put it on his head. I will make him the ruler of <em> everything </em>. The Devil or not, the entire Galaxy will bow to him.”</p>
<p>“Over my dead body!” Senator Amidala exclaims vehemently, pressing her fists to her thighs and lifting her chin up in defiance.</p>
<p>“Ah, I’m glad you mentioned it, Senator.” Anakin grins and tugs off his cowl. “That’s <em> exactly </em> why I am here.”</p>
<p>His hand shoots out in front of him, fingers curling around the empty space, and Senator Amidala starts wheezing, clutching at her throat in useless attempts to free herself from Anakin’s merciless Force grip.</p>
<p>“You seem to know all of my Master’s names, Senator Amidala. But do you know what people call <em> me </em>?”</p>
<p>“No… Please…” she begs with only her lips, but Anakin just squeezes her throat harder.</p>
<p>“They call me the Dark Padawan, Senator,” he explains, slowly, mercilessly, “and as you have probably realized by now, it has nothing to do with my fashion choices.”</p>
<p>He lifts her up by her neck, and she struggles a little bit more, wriggling and kicking in the air, flailing like a fish on a hook.</p>
<p>“Why…are you…doing this?” she wheezes with a loud gurgling, choking sound, her eyes bulging.</p>
<p>“You’ve spoken against my Master,” Anakin shrugs simply, as if it’s entirely self-explanatory. “You won’t be speaking again.”</p>
<p>“Please…” she begs with her last breath. “Mercy!”</p>
<p>“No.” Anakin shakes his head. “No mercy.”</p>
<p>And then she dies. Just like that.</p>
<p>
  <em> The stupid bitch… </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> But what else did she expect, asking the Devil’s apprentice for help, really? </em>
</p>
<p>Her body slumps down onto the landing pad in an untidy heap of limbs bent at the wrong angles.</p>
<p>
  <em> So uncivilized, Anakin! </em>
</p>
<p>Anakin cringes at his Master’s imaginary voice in his head. It’s not even actually <em> there </em>, yet somehow it always manages to scold him just as well as the real thing.</p>
<p>Anakin flushes and averts his gaze from the body in embarrassment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bravo!” a throaty voice praises from the shadows, accompanied by slow dramatic claps. “Most impressive for a little Jedi boy.”</p>
<p>Anakin turns around with an eye roll.</p>
<p>“Ventress.”</p>
<p>She emerges from the darkness with a mocking bow.</p>
<p>Anakin quirks an inquisitive eyebrow. “Well? Is it done?” </p>
<p>“As agreed.” The assassin nods. “The Duchess has died on Mandalore, and Senator Organa – on Alderaan.”</p>
<p>“What about the Jedi?” Anakin frowns.</p>
<p>“Quinlan Vos is being taken care of as we speak,” Ventress assures him, coming up to peer at Senator Amidala’s body with clear curiosity.</p>
<p>“Who was she?”</p>
<p>“Just some disrespectful bitch.” Anakin grimaces with disgust and gestures impatiently, prompting Ventress to leave the body alone and continue their conversation.</p>
<p>“How was it done? Was it clean?”</p>
<p>She glares at him as though it is him who is being a disrespectful bitch now.</p>
<p>“But <em> of course </em> it was clean. It’s going to look like the Duchess was assassinated by the Death Watch, and the Senator died in an explosion during local military training exercises. A tragic accident.” She fakes a shocked and devastated expression, pressing her hand to her chest. “And I suppose the Kiffar won’t be missed too much anyway.”</p>
<p>“Well done, Ventress.” Anakin smirks. “For a little darksider girl.”</p>
<p>Now it is Ventress who rolls her eyes with exasperation.</p>
<p>“You said there’s one more?” she reminds him, lifting her eyebrow in a silent question, but Anakin dismisses her with a wave of his hand as he stalks past her to the exit from the landing platform.</p>
<p>“Yes, but that one is here, on Coruscant, so I can take care of it personally.” </p>
<p>“And what about this one?” Ventress tips her head to the Senator’s body on the ground. “Aren’t you going to cover it up?”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” Anakin assures her, tugging his cloak off and letting it pool on the ground.</p>
<p>“Right,” Ventress drawls, folding her arms and looking rather doubtful. “Well, I’ve done what you asked. Now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the bargain. Take me to your Master.”</p>
<p>Anakin rolls his eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh, and carefully places the black crown rejected by his Master on top of his cloak before turning around to face Ventress.</p>
<p>“If I take you to him… What, are you going to just talk him into taking you on as his Sith apprentice?” Anakin’s question is outright mocking, but Ventress parries it with her own snide remark without so much as batting an eye.</p>
<p>“<em> Talk </em> him into it?” She raises an eyebrow, pretending to be actually contemplating it for a moment. “Well, I suppose he would just <em> love </em> that, wouldn’t he?”</p>
<p>She laughs at the impressive scowl Anakin gives her.</p>
<p>“Besides, that’s what you did, right? His little fallen Padawan, you begged him to guide you through the Dark, and he agreed.”</p>
<p>Anakin averts his gaze, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment for the second time this evening.</p>
<p>“But no, I have other methods of…persuasion.” Ventress waggles her eyebrows with clear meaning. “Trust me, before the night is over, I’ll have him <em> convinced </em> that I can be a…valuable addition to your team.”</p>
<p>Anakin has always known that Ventress has some kind of weird fascinated obsession with his Master, but <em> still, </em> he thinks he is going to be sick from the unbidden, abominable pictures his imagination has painted for him at her words. Thankfully, they are quickly washed away by the wave of rage rising inside him.</p>
<p>He gathers all of his willpower to remain calm and to school his murderous expression into a fake display of sympathy instead.</p>
<p>“It must be pretty tough for you, huh? A darksider with no master. No one’s there to guide you. No one’s there to tell you the rules...” Anakin tries to appear nonchalant and not look like a predator zeroing in on his prey as he approaches the assassin. “You see, I myself am not a big fan of rules. But there is one I like. <em> A lot </em>.”</p>
<p>“And what’s that?” Judging by Ventress’s annoyed expression, she is not exactly interested in finding it out, but has decided to humor Anakin anyway.</p>
<p>He chuckles darkly.</p>
<p>“The Rule of Two: a Master and an Apprentice.”</p>
<p>His blue blade hisses to life in the dark.</p>
<p>“There is only him and me. No one else.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is almost morning, a new dawn spilling its blood across Coruscant’s skyline, when Anakin scrambles into their shared quarters, tiptoeing clumsily around the furniture and trying to make as little noise as possible.</p>
<p>“Hello there.”</p>
<p>“Kriffing mother of Si–” Anakin trips over his own feet and almost tumbles onto the floor, caught completely off-guard by his Master’s dark silhouette in the chair.</p>
<p>“<em> Language </em>, Padawan.”</p>
<p>“Master!” Anakin exclaims, hastily straightening up and trying to calm down his erratically beating heart. “I didn’t think you would be up so late.”</p>
<p>He casts a quick glance at the window and corrects himself, “Early.”</p>
<p>The Jedi springs to his feet so suddenly that Anakin staggers back out of surprise and almost loses his footing again.</p>
<p>“How <em> dare </em> you come to me like this? All drenched in death?”</p>
<p>His Master’s face is carefully blank and his voice is as level as always, but Anakin is almost floored when a wave of his Master’s disappointment and disgust hits him in the Force. </p>
<p>“Master, I–” Anakin thinks he is going to be sick.</p>
<p>This is not how his Master was supposed to find out. Oh well, here goes his plan. His good, carefully thought-through plan to frame Ventress for the murder of the Senator. <em> Blast </em>.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Master. But I <em> had to </em> kill someone tonight.” Anakin decides that there is no denying it anyway, so he might as well take a page out of his Master’s book and tell him something that is true. From a certain point of view.</p>
<p>“I fought and killed that annoying assassin, Ventress. But she was evil anyway, wasn’t she?” Anakin confesses cheekily, even though his hands are shaking with the nerves and the world is spinning around him like crazy. “I know you didn’t give the order, Master, but you were at the Council meeting when I felt her presence here on Coruscant, so I went after her. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t let her get away again. I only meant to apprehend her, but by the time I got to her, she had already killed Senator Amidala, and I was <em> forced </em> to fight her. I had no other choice!”</p>
<p>“Lies.”</p>
<p><em> A slap </em> – sharp and sudden – burns Anakin’s cheek.</p>
<p>He freezes, his head still jerked to the side, blinking quickly and furiously in shock. His mouth falls open as he gasps for air and presses his eyes shut in desperate hope to clear his head, already faint and dizzy with panic.</p>
<p>
  <em> He has made Master angry. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh, no! He has never done it before, not like this. Never made him lose his blasted serenity, not even for a minute. He should be scared right now. Really scared. But… </em>
</p>
<p>The imprint of his Master’s hand on his cheek is like a spark spreading fire through his body, and a pathetic mewl of pleasure falls off Anakin’s lips before he can even think to stop it.</p>
<p>
  <em> Kriff! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He needs to beg for forgiveness. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He needs to be on his knees. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Kneel. Kneel. Kneel. </em>
</p>
<p>The sole thought is pulsating agonizingly against Anakin’s skull like a blaring alarm, flashing angry red under his closed eyelids.</p>
<p>But Master doesn’t even seem to notice his strange reaction, too engrossed in his own grief.</p>
<p>“It’s not Ventress’s fate I am concerned about.” His voice is almost mournful as he speaks. “You <em> reek </em> of that little Senator’s fear, Anakin. How did she really die?”</p>
<p>“Ventress strangled her, Master.” Anakin insists stubbornly. There is no going back, after all.</p>
<p>Another slap – and he <em> collapses </em> to his knees, looking up at his Master with dark, wide-blown pupils.</p>
<p>“<em> I </em> strangled her, Master.”</p>
<p>One more slap – harder his time – and Anakin <em> moans, </em>tasting blood on his lips and already painfully hard in his pants as he tumbles forward, onto his hands.</p>
<p>“Mah-ster…”</p>
<p>No longer lenient. No longer gentle. His Master is finally treating him like the little disobedient shit he is. And Anakin loves it. He <em>absolutely</em> <em>loves</em> it. At long last, he doesn’t feel like he is unworthy of his Master’s kindness. Doesn’t feel inadequate. Doesn’t feel like he is stealing something he doesn’t actually deserve. And the feeling is truly <em>amazing</em>.</p>
<p>It almost makes Anakin moan out loud – just seeing that infuriatingly kind and understanding expression his Master usually wears when he is exercising his stubborn, steadfast patience with him – <em> gone </em>.</p>
<p>But Anakin doesn’t have time to catch his breath and push his sudden, sharp, unbearable arousal back under control as he is immediately jerked back up by his Master’s hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.</p>
<p>“Are you sorry?” Master looks as though the weight of the entire Galaxy has suddenly been dropped onto his shoulders and Anakin’s remorse is the only thing that could lift it, so…</p>
<p>“Yes! Yes!” Anakin whines, squirming in his Master’s grip, as if trying to get away but, in fact, making the pull on his curls even stronger. “Yes, Master!”</p>
<p>The Jedi watches him writhe and wriggle for a long moment, his face a blank, dispassionate mask again, and only his ever so sad eyes betraying how hurt and disappointed he really is. But <em> not surprised </em>. </p>
<p>Anakin can fool anyone – anyone but his Master: he has always known what his Padawan really is. And he doesn’t trust him. Doesn’t believe his words.</p>
<p>Good for him. He shouldn’t. Because Anakin would say anything just to please him. So no, his Master should never believe there is anything good in him. But then <em> why </em> does he so stubbornly want to?</p>
<p>“Are you <em> really </em> sorry, Anakin?” he tries again, tugging at his hair forcefully and almost lifting Anakin from his knees.</p>
<p>“No!” Anakin sobs tearfully, shaking bodily in his Master’s grip, as if electrocuted. “No, Master!”</p>
<p>And then…</p>
<p>And then he is let go of.</p>
<p>“Don’t you <em> dare </em> lie to me again.”</p>
<p>Just like that, his Master unclenches his fist and lets Anakin sprawl awkwardly on the floor at his feet.</p>
<p>Anakin is breathing heavily through his mouth, not daring to lift his face and look up at him, so all he sees is his bare feet retreating to his bedroom.</p>
<p>
  <em> Just like that. </em>
</p>
<p>Something in Anakin snaps.</p>
<p>His Master has just literally forced a confession to a cold-bloodied murder out of him, and that’s his reaction? Walk away in disappointment? Isn’t he going to alert the Council? Isn’t he going to let him rot in jail for what he did? Isn’t he going to be <em> angry </em> with him, for kark’s sake?!</p>
<p>“What, and that’s it?” Anakin calls after his Master, his voice childishly petulant. “How can you always be so kriffing calm?”</p>
<p>
  <em> It’s just not fair! </em>
</p>
<p>Bitter tears burn Anakin’s eyes and tighten his throat.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you ever show any emotions?! Do you care at all?! Are you even <em> human </em>, Master?!”</p>
<p>The Jedi freezes in the doorframe.</p>
<p>Thunder rumbles right outside, making the windowpane rattle as if in fear, but Anakin ignores the warning.</p>
<p>“Say something!” he demands, his voice trembling with anger and desperation. “Shout at me! Tell me off! Anything!”</p>
<p>Even if Master tells him he hates him for what he did, it will still be better than his kriffing cold indifference. Any emotion at all is better than what Anakin is getting right now. Which is <em> nothing! </em></p>
<p>Nothing every time! No matter how hard he has been trying – endlessly, for so many years – to make his unflappable Master finally shed those restraints of self-control he wears like his Jedi robes. <em> Nothing </em>.</p>
<p>Anakin wants to see the reflection of his own emotions in his Master. He wants anger. He wants frustration. <em> Passion </em>.</p>
<p>But passion is not the Jedi way, and Anakin is sure as Sith hell never going to get it from Obi-Wan Kenobi. Just kindness. Always kindness. Gentle understanding. All-forgiving indulgence. Restrained affection. They are crueler than any actual punishment Anakin can think of. They hurt more than lightsaber burns. They bring agony instead of relief, making Anakin want to crawl out of his own skin just to stop it. Stop feeling like a useless, inadequate child, undeserving of his Master’s endless goodness.</p>
<p><em> Punish me! Punish me, Master! </em> Anakin wants to wail. <em> Anything but this! Anything but your infinite mercy! Please, please no more! </em></p>
<p>But Master doesn’t even turn around to look at Anakin when he speaks in that infuriatingly calm tone of his which makes the hairs on the back of Anakin’s neck stand on end, signaling hidden danger.</p>
<p>“What am I supposed to say? You don’t listen to me anyway. Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you at all.”</p>
<p>And then, the door of his bedroom hisses shut behinds his back, leaving Anakin to repeatedly hit his forehead against the floor and groan with frustration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, many thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Run after him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To get in the mood for this chapter, I highly recommend you guys to listen to <strong>Satellite </strong> and <strong>Frequency</strong> by <strong>Starset</strong></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Anakin wakes up to the sound of his own head pounding as if his brain were launching proton torpedoes to bombard his skull from the inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels sick, and devastated, and too big for his own skin, and not rested at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why should he be? He doesn’t even know how he managed to fall asleep last night in the first place. He had been trying to cry himself into it for hours – to no avail. And then Master stepped over his figure slumped pathetically on the floor by his door. And then everything went dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Master…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Cold sweat breaks all over Anakin’s body, and he scrambles to get up, his trembling fingers clawing at the back of his Master’s armchair for purchase. His stomach heaves and immediately tries to vacate his body through his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master!” Anakin calls weakly, making a sloping stagger towards the wall, and contrives by its support to scramble his way to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Master must be thousands of parsecs away by now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has </span>
  <em>
    <span>left</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Commander Skywalker bursts into the Temple’s hangar bay like a swirling vortex of fear and rage, and Cody briefly considers hiding behind the nearest pile of crates.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kriffing Jetiise. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aren’t they supposed to be all calm and shit? But no, this blasted Skywalker defies the very existence of </span>
  <em>
    <span>calm</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is General Kenobi?” he demands, his voice shaking with panic and his eyes wild.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has taken a shuttle and left, sir,” Cody replies hastily, an almost physical wave of Skywalker’s terror slamming hard against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you let him go </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” It seems the walls of the hangar bay shake with Skywalker’s shout reverberating among them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was his order, Commander. Not to follow,” Cody tries to explain with as much calm as he can muster and cringes inwardly when his voice betrays him and shakes anyway. “He said the Council hadn’t authorized his mission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arrgh!” Skywalker growls and thrashes around like a wounded beast, clutching at his hair in agony of his despair. “Where did he go? Where? I must follow him! Tell me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, kriff,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cody thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the boy has totally lost it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander, I need you to listen,” Cody gingerly tries to pacify him, lowering his voice and outstretching his arms to him, palms outward, as if indeed dealing with a dangerous wild animal. “Please, you have to calm down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There doesn’t seem to be much hope of it though as Skywalker has already started to hyperventilate, seething in his intense, completely overboard agitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only now hits Cody that the crazy</span>
  <em>
    <span> Jetii</span>
  </em>
  <span> boy looks like he is in actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>physical</span>
  </em>
  <span> pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander Skywalker, you should take a deep breath–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I must follow my Master…” He suddenly pales, blood draining from his face completely, and Cody realizes that he must be going into shock, but his white lips keep whispering as he stares through Cody with unseeing eyes. “You don’t understand! I need to– I need to go after him! I need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>go</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander–” Cody steps up to Skywalker, ready to catch him if he decides to faint on him, and Skywalker uses the opportunity to clutch at his forearms with a death grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me where my General is! Where did he go?” he demands, completely lost to his wild frenzy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, sir,” Cody convinces Skywalker in a gentle voice while trying to free himself from his grip. “The General didn’t say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, whatever!” The Jedi suddenly pushes him away like an angry, petulant child. “I’ll find him myself! He can’t leave me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing Commander Cody’s current predicament, Captain Rex rushes over and attempts to interject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander Skywalker, sir–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Skywalker’s shout almost deafens him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get me a ship! NOW!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Captain Rex gives him a quick appraising look: Skywalker is very obviously in no state to fly. Hell, he can barely stand upright, let alone pilot a ship to Force knows where.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. After the General had taken one of the ships, I received orders from the Council: the Open Circle Armada is grounded until further notice.” Rex subtly positions himself, preparing to fight. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>. After all, if General Kenobi’s Padawan needs a ship to follow his Master across the entire Galaxy like a lost – and </span>
  <em>
    <span>very angry</span>
  </em>
  <span> – puppy, he will get it no matter what, right? Even in his current state (which is “barely alive”), Skywalker can still kill him without so much as breaking a sweat…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too engrossed in the grim thoughts of his own imminent death, Rex barely manages to jump back when Skywalker storms past him towards the exit in a whirl of his billowing black robes and with a long string of curses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That blasted, karking bunch of old sleemos!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Count Dooku.” Obi-Wan’s voice reverberates across the Valley of the Dark Lords, flying over the heads of hundreds of battle droids aiming their blasters at the lone Jedi in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve come alone?” Dooku replies incredulously from across the Valley where he is standing on the steps of the Sith Temple. “Where is your army, General?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I need an army?” Obi-Wan inquires with deliberate nonchalance. “Are you going to kill me? Your own Grandpadawan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But of course not.” Dooku deflates, dropping his menacing posture and gesturing to his troops to stand down. “You know I would never hurt you, my boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He strolls down the steps of the Temple, and the rows of battle droids part to let him through to where Obi-Wan’s lonely figure is awaiting him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It is so good to finally see you again, Obi-Wan,” Dooku mutters, taking the Jedi’s not offered palm and squeezing it gently in his hands. “It’s been so long. Look at you! You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. I hear you yourself are a Master now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you are an apprentice again,” Obi-Wan quips, raising a challenging eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little too old for that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still as mouthy as I remember.” Dooku chuckles, placing Obi-Wan’s hand onto his arm and ushering him towards the Temple, the columns of droids making way for their leisurely stroll.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan was fishing, of course: he had always had suspicions that Dooku might have been the Sith Master to that Zabrak he killed on Naboo, but somehow, he still doubted that. And now that Dooku isn’t in a hurry to deny his assumption, Obi-Wan is sure that there is another Sith Lord. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> Master. And Obi-Wan is dreading to imagine what he is capable of if his mere apprentice has managed to start a Galaxy-wide war.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always known you were special, Obi-Wan.” Dooku’s voice almost startles Obi-Wan out of his musings on his terrible discovery. “When I first saw you in the creche, I knew right away you would go far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how did you know that, Count?” Obi-Wan tilts his head to look at him, raising an eyebrow, incredulous and maybe just a little curious.                             </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were shining brighter than anyone I’d ever met.” A little smile grazes Dooku’s lips as his gaze becomes clouded with the memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan frowns: he has already heard that kind of talk once before. And where did it get him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you actually were the reason I fell to the Dark Side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah yes, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> where.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan falters and stops mid-stride. He suddenly feels lightheaded and unsteady on his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It simply can’t be that two out of three Sith he’s met are actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing. It’s just not possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not possible.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have said that,” Dooku backtracks immediately, seeing Obi-Wan’s thunderstruck expression and how pale he has suddenly become.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to elaborate?” Obi-Wan exhales shakily, willing his fingers to stop clenching Dooku’s forearm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dooku bows his head slightly and carefully continues to lead Obi-Wan up the steps of the Sith Temple as he speaks:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I discovered you, I immediately wanted you as my apprentice. Alas, I was careless enough to mention it to my former Padawan, and he betrayed me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Qui-Gon betrayed you?” Obi-Wan’s look of astonishment makes Dooku chuckle humorlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must have been too young to remember our fights back then, but… They were always about the same thing: he claimed you for himself before I had the chance, and I didn’t exactly take it lightly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stop at the top of the steps, and Dooku turns to look back at his army while Obi-Wan continues to stare at his profile in utter disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” Dooku gives him an annoyed side glance. He doesn’t seem to be very pleased to be reminded of that time in his life. “I became possessive. And jealous. And angry. And there wasn’t enough serenity in the whole Temple to calm me down, so…I fell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dooku’s voice is carefully level, but Obi-Wan can feel the rage still boiling deep inside his Force Signature. After all these years, it is still fueling his Darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had spent a long time without a Master to teach me the ways of the Dark Side, but then he found me.” Dooku turns to look directly at Obi-Wan, who holds his breath in anticipation of the valuable intel: finally, the proof he needs – the mysterious Sith Lord does exist after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darth Sidious promised me I would have you with me, and here you are,” Dooku says, as if in response to Obi-Wan’s thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan stares at him for a second longer before giving a harsh, derisive laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid your Master has deceived you, Count. You couldn’t have me then, and you sure as hell can’t have me now. I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> join you on the Dark Side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course not.” Dooku hurries to take a step back and raise his palms in a pacifying manner when he sees Obi-Wan reach for his lightsaber. “I know you will never fall. In fact, there is no need for that. Your purity is what makes you so precious. It would be a shame to break such a beautiful thing. No, I want to keep you exactly as you are. Untainted. Uncorrupted. The perfect Jedi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan just watches Dooku in silence for a long moment, his mouth slightly agape in amazement, as he tries to determine whether it is some kind of a sick joke or the Sith is just completely insane, and then he just bursts out laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do realize that I am a Jedi Master and not a porcelain doll for you to keep in a glass case, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I know you are not a doll, Obi-Wan,” Dooku grits through his teeth irritably. “But this whole war is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>distasteful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Surely, you understand it is no place for a refined man like you. You deserve so much better, my boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan folds his arms on his chest, his eyebrow raised derisively, but doesn’t interrupt Dooku’s wishful thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could give you a palace, Obi-Wan,” Dooku offers when he meets no objections, taking a step towards the Jedi. “Or a planet, all to yourself. Or even a whole system. Whatever you want, really. Just one word – and it’s yours. Wouldn’t you like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One word.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Funny. Isn’t that what Anakin said too? Is it like a…</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sith thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to offer galaxies to people? Why do they always need companions? Are they afraid that they might destroy the whole world and end up all alone, the Lords of nothing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tempting...” Obi-Wan inclines his head, pretending to be considering the offer. “And what would you expect in return, Count?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dooku’s eyes predictably turn dark and hungry as soon as he realizes how close he is to getting what he desires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be nice if… When I visit, you could, perhaps, be more amenable to…” he stutters, licking his lips in nervous agitation, as he searches for the right wording, “...more </span>
  <em>
    <span>disposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> towards…my company.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Even though Obi-Wan has been expecting something like that (after all, more than a half of his negotiations end in quite a similar way), he can’t help but be surprised to have received such a proposition from Count Dooku of all people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan’s eyebrows crawl upwards of their own accord, entirely against his will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you seriously offering me to become your glorified</span>
  <em>
    <span> kept boy</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would never touch you, of course.” Dooku raises his palms with emphasis. “I only want to watch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To </span>
  <em>
    <span>watch</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Obi-Wan didn’t think it was even possible for him to get more astonished than he already was, but apparently, he was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All you need to do is wear your Jedi attire and let me watch while you train, or meditate, or drink your tea… You always loved it as a child…” Dooku’s usually blank, unemotional expression becomes almost dreamy, and Obi-Wan has to repress a shudder as he imagines all that too. “And then maybe you could talk to me in that posh accent of yours. And call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dooku…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan feels sick: never once in his life has he been so openly and shamelessly objectified before. That is disgusting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Despicable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he is alone on a planet of the Sith, surrounded by an army of droids, and he needs to find out the real name of Dooku’s Master, so instead of reaching for his lightsaber, Obi-Wan orders himself to breathe and smile. Smile like he always does. Charming. Dashing. Alluring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, Count,” he tilts his head almost playfully, “you could be watching me do all that right now…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan pauses for effect, and sure enough, Dooku leans forward eagerly, his face alive with poorly hidden excitement as he waits for Obi-Wan to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…if only you hadn’t betrayed the Order,” Obi-Wan finishes, stepping back from Dooku and watching with outright glee how his face darkens with disappointment.</span>
</p><p><span>“</span><em><span>You</span></em> <em><span>haven’t</span></em><span> betrayed them, Obi-Wan, and yet they have abandoned you,” Dooku grits out through his teeth. “They have sent you to the most infamous Sith citadel in history all alone.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan folds his arms on his chest, as if unconsciously trying to protect himself from the Sith’s harsh words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No Jedi can stand the Dark presence of this place for long, Obi-Wan. Don’t you feel it weighing heavily on you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan does, but it’s nothing compared to his own apprentice’s gravitational pull tugging at him from across the Galaxy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eventually, the Darkness will </span>
  <em>
    <span>crush</span>
  </em>
  <span> you,” Dooku promises menacingly and steps forward again, offering Obi-Wan his hand. “Come with me, and I will protect you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just like his worst nightmare has come true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How many times has Anakin dreamed that his Master would leave him? Not once, not twice, but again and again, and still he is not prepared to accept it. Or even simply think about it without feeling like he is dying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin senses through the Force how his Master’s Signature is melting from their Bond and slinking away, and his own essence is too slow to chase it, as though it’s wading through seething waters.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he tries to call out – </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master! Master!</span>
  </em>
  <span> – his voice doesn’t work. The Force is not with him – it’s with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and it has left Anakin along with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The real world seems to be trying to do the same because it’s spinning around him in a dizzying whirlwind and refuses to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulled by his invisible leash, Anakin almost stumbles over his feet with every step he takes. But it’s okay. It’s fine. He will just crawl after his Master on the ground if he has to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels almost like that day in the caves of Ilum when his worst nightmare spoke to him in his Master’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want you as my Padawan anymore. I will leave you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Only this time the nightmare is real and there is broken glass, and fire, and noise all around him in the Force, and he drags himself through it, reaching out with his bloodied, shaking hands, begging: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t leave me, Master! Don’t leave me alone!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin pauses, or rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>screeches</span>
  </em>
  <span> to a halt on his unsteady, wobbly legs before the doors of the Council Chamber, willing his body to stop screaming at him with every nerve ending in it. He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> dying, dammit! Not yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Council has grounded their whole Armada just to keep the Chosen One in the Temple, just to prevent him from following his Master.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Do the old fools really think that will hold him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin barks out a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He will go wherever his Master goes, and he won’t let anything – or anyone – stand in his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs a ship and the name of Obi-Wan’s destination, and the Council will give them to him. Or they will die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just that simple, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if he doesn’t manage to defeat them in a fight, he will just explode from his unbearable need to be with his Master and blow up the entire Temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His blade ignites in his lowered hand as he steps through the doors of the Council Chamber…and onto another planet.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, tons of thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Give him an army</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello there!<br/>To get in the mood for this chapter, I highly recommend listening to <strong>Starlight</strong> by <strong>Starset</strong>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Anakin falls out of the portal onto some red clay surface with a loud yelp of surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sunset is aiming at his chest with its red spear. Its scarlet is blinding him. Dust is creaking on his teeth and blurring his vision. The cliffs surrounding him on both sides look like walls of a fortress. Anakin can smell grief and death in the very air, and the name springs to mind almost immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Korriban</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is in the very heart of the Sith civilization. And that’s where his Master is. Anakin knows it: he can feel his blinding presence at the end of the valley.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank the Force!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s just one tiny little problem though: there is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>kriffing droid army</span>
  </em>
  <span> standing between them – a forest of war banners for as far as Anakin’s eyes can see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, they say, death in battle is easy. But to rush into its hands willingly? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you insane, Master? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anakin wants to scream at the orange skies.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How could you go without me?! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Alone in the den of evil. Alone against a whole army. Alone on his way to the Sith Temple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again, what else was Anakin expecting? He has always known that Obi-Wan Kenobi will all but waltz towards the enemy and then, of course, </span>
  <em>
    <span>flirt</span>
  </em>
  <span> with them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charm</span>
  </em>
  <span> them into submission. That’s what he does. And that is, apparently, exactly what he did this time too, being absolutely disarming with his smile – </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span> – enough to actually neutralize a whole droid army.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otherwise, how else could he manage to get to the Temple unharmed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the thought of his Master seducing some Sith Lord with his provocative playfulness, Anakin sees red. He barely manages to accept having lost his Master to the Jedi Order, but losing him to another Sith? He’d rather die and let Korriban become his grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks up his lightsaber and rises from the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan watches, almost distractedly, how Anakin is cutting his way through the army of clankers, moving forward like an ice-breaker – merciless and unstoppable – his blue lightsaber bright against the swirl of his black robes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is magnificent when he is like that – feral in his fury. All that raw, untamed power, all that pure strength, all that lethal energy – all of it – for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Just to keep him safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master! The Order has betrayed you!” his Padawan’s breathless voice accompanied by the sound of blaster fire calls out between the slashes of the cerulean blade. “But I am here, Master! I am loyal! I will follow you wherever you go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan folds his arms on his chest and turns back to Dooku, his eyebrow raised ironically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like my army is here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dooku appears positively thunderstruck. His gaze darts almost helplessly between Obi-Wan and the devastation Anakin is causing on his way to his Master.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> is your Padawan?” he finally utters, staring at Obi-Wan in absolute shock. “They say you are the perfect Jedi. How the hell did you manage to raise a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sith</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master, look! Look what I can do for you!” Anakin cries desperately and somewhat childishly as he sends dozens of droids flying in all directions with one Force stroke and pushes forward to the Temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan just rolls his eyes in annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dooku’s forehead creases in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s come to rescue you, Obi-Wan. But you don’t exactly look very happy to see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Obi-Wan quirks an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware I needed to be rescued.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course not,” Dooku backtracks immediately. “I just meant–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you said you would protect me, Count.” Obi-Wan tilts his head, gesturing to the massacre on the battlefield. “Well, go ahead. Now is your chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to fight your fallen Padawan?” Dooku frowns, struggling to believe his own ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you want to have your </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect Jedi</span>
  </em>
  <span> all to yourself,” Obi-Wan gives him a meaningful look, “you will have to pry me out of his cold, dead hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You–” Dooku falls speechless, looking at Obi-Wan in astonishment and searching for words, but then just gives it up and bows slightly. “As you wish, Obi-Wan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His red saber cuts through the gathering twilight as he marches down the steps of the Sith Temple and onto the battlefield.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan folds his arms hidden inside his loose sleeves in front of himself. His eyes follow the angry dance of the two blades, red and blue clashing against each other in intricate patterns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did his life get to the point where there are two powerful Sith fighting to death over a mere ordinary Jedi like him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all his fault, of course. He’s done it again – something he promised himself he would never do after becoming a Knight. And he isn’t just a Knight – he is a Master now, he is free to use his gift however he sees fit, and yet, he’s done it </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He has negotiated </span>
  <em>
    <span>war</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t actually know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he wanted to see if he really could order Dooku around like the old fool he is, so tangled up in his bizarre Jedi fetish that he didn’t even see that Obi-Wan was simply using him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, perhaps, he wanted to punish Anakin for his disobedience by literally placing a thousand parsecs, a droid army and a Sith Lord between them just to keep his apprentice away from himself and make him suffer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe...he just enjoys watching the two Dark waves roiling and crushing against each other in desperate desire to swallow and possess his Light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stupid Sith. He could kill them both right now. In fact, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill them both right now. Because that’s what good Jedi do. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sith – they don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>make</span>
  </em>
  <span> them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is not a good Jedi. He isn’t even sure if he still </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> a Jedi at all. He doesn’t know how the Light Side has even tolerated him this far. He is not even a good person. Not at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, in his attempts to keep Anakin from falling into the Dark, Obi-Wan has always been kind to him. He has been understanding. Patient. Compassionate. Accepting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of those things – but applied in the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>cruel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>excruciating</span>
  </em>
  <span> way, to the point where every </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master </span>
  </em>
  <span>his apprentice utters is a moan of both pleasure and pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> he knows no difference, his poor broken Padawan. He has no moral compass. That’s why he is so lost – all because he is following his Master’s guiding Light blindly and doesn’t even suspect that it might be leading him only deeper into the Dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is very simple, my Padawan. You don’t need to worry about anything. I will lead, and you will follow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s what Obi-Wan told him once, back when Anakin was still little and had severe anxiety from feeling like an outsider among the other Padawans, not knowing how to do things the Jedi way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back then, Obi-Wan just wanted to ease some of that pressure. But Anakin isn’t a child anymore, so why does he feel the need to follow him </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why is he not concerned where Obi-Wan is leading him? Because he isn’t even sure of that himself. Not anymore. Not when he pushed his Padawan to the Dark Side after a whole decade of trying to prevent just that. There was no logic in that. No serving the Light Side. Just a selfish desire to keep. Keep him alive. Keep him safe. Keep him </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now that the boy </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> all his, just like the Darkness said, why isn’t he content? Why is he so furious with him for killing that Senator girl if he had always known, deep inside, that something like that was imminent? What else was he expecting from the angry Sith boy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is no one else to blame – it’s all his own fault after all. He has always known that Anakin has no restraints whatsoever when it comes to protecting his Master. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the one who let him be like that. He is the one who has been humoring Anakin all this time by letting them both pretend like he needs his protection in the first place. They both know he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> it – he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoys</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. And that is the only reason Senator Amidala and Asajj Ventress are dead, and Count Dooku will soon be too. Not because he is a dangerous Sith Lord, not because he is the Separatist leader waging the war against the Republic. No. He is going to die just because he proffered his hand to Obi-Wan Kenobi in front of his Padawan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looks like the Negotiator doesn’t even need to speak anymore – his mere presence can summon death now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if in slow motion, Obi-Wan watches Dooku make the slightest mistake, and only a moment later – both his hands fall into the brown dust on the ground, cut off by Anakin’s blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should have kept those to yourself instead of trying to touch my Master, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you Sith scum</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Anakin hisses, his face contorted with rage and disgust, and Obi-Wan wants to</span>
  <em>
    <span> laugh</span>
  </em>
  <span> because, despite everything, his first instinct is to scold Anakin for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>inappropriate language </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dooku’s red lightsaber springs up, propelled by the Force, and Anakin catches it with his left hand while Dooku sinks heavily to his knees before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two angry blades – azure and crimson – cross under Dooku’s chin and pause for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan knows that Dooku is too dangerous to be kept alive, but he is an unarmed prisoner, and the information he could provide about his Sith Master may prove invaluable for the Order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan takes a step forward, his hand reaching out, as if to stop his Padawan.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t do it, Anakin! It’s not the Jedi way.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The words almost fall from his lips. Almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because what is the point of them? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What is the point of reminding Anakin about the Jedi way if he isn’t a Jedi anymore? He never was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What is the point of telling him not to kill Dooku if he himself provoked their fight, knowing full well how it would end? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What is the point if it is all his own fault that his Padawan even still </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be told not to kill people in the first place?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What is the point?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, Force! He must be the worst teacher in history.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been trying to pull Anakin out of the Dark waters for so long that he didn’t notice how he himself got drenched in them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How tragic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How ironic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Light that is more sinister and vicious than the Darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A Jedi who is more merciless than any Sith.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Serenity whose sharp ice doesn’t melt even in the fire of passion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s too late to repent now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No regrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No mercy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan lowers his outstretched arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blades hiss, and Dooku’s severed head falls to the ground with a thump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master!” Anakin raises his gaze at Obi-Wan, and his fierce grimace immediately melts into an ingratiating smile and an obsequious look in his eyes. “I know I’m a Sith now, but everything I do is to serve my Jedi. It always will be. And I will always follow you wherever you go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Darkness clings to Obi-Wan like a fawning dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Look, Master. I’ve killed a Sith for you. Am I a good boy? Am I? Am I?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please accept the proof of my loyalty, Master,” Anakin says, gesturing to Dooku’s body, and Obi-Wan thinks distractedly that, perhaps, his Darkness isn’t like a dog after all. It’s like a Loth-cat that brings him dead birds and mice because it thinks he’s a useless human who doesn’t know how to hunt for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Darkness </span>
  <em>
    <span>purrs</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His Master’s attention finally shifts from his opponent’s dead body on the ground towards him, and it gives Anakin the heady rush he is always so hungry for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin’s entire existence suddenly feels illuminated when his Master’s Light spills out and thrashes around the Jedi, expectant and angry, throwing an unearthly halo around his deceptively fragile form. </span>
</p><p><span>It surges forward, shifting the broken bodies of the battle droids and ricocheting between the two mountain ranges forming the narrow valley, while the Jedi himself remains perfectly still, shrouded in the glowing ruby hues of Korriban’s setting sun and looking both breathtakingly exquisite and strangely, inexplicably dangerous – potentially </span><span>capable of both mercy</span> <span>and punishment </span><span>– </span><span>and Anakin doesn’t even know which of those he fears more.</span></p><p>
  <span>He is breathing harshly, his pleading gaze stubbornly locked with his Master’s cold one, until his glowing figure starts descending the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glides languorously through the battlefield towards Anakin like a curious predator, his halo dilating and unfolding – a shimmering veil behind his back, crackling with power like a live wire, sparks scattering around it and following in the wake it leaves behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Master!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin’s Darkness rushes forward to meet the Jedi but shudders and immediately recoils when his Light zaps it with an angry, electric hiss of lightning. Anakin can almost hear it yelp like a kicked puppy while it quickly withdraws to wreathe behind his back in puffs of black mist, hurt and wailing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lightsabers fall out of Anakin’s hands and into the brown dust of Korriban. His face crumbles into an expression of utter agony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something is </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Darkness is soft and caring. His Master’s Light is sharp and ruthless. But it has always called for him. It has been singing to him in the most amazing, entrancing voice. And all his life, the black waves of Anakin’s essence have been breaking against its shining rock over and over again in futile attempts to soften it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Swell. Break. Retreat. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Endlessly. Hopelessly. In a desperate, angry rhythm.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Swell. Break. Retreat. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Over and over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Swell. Break. Retreat. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>To no avail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It has been like that for as long as Anakin can remember. But something has changed: never before had he been pushed away the way it just happened. The way he had always feared it would. Like his Master had finally had enough of him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Master, say something!” the boy begs, visibly struggling to stay still and not run into his arms. “Please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>speak</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me. I need to hear your voice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, just as he thought: the silent treatment is making his Padawan suffer already. So soon, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poor child. He looks like he is about to cry. On a Sith planet. In the middle of a battlefield. Surrounded by the broken remnants of the army he has just single-handedly destroyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to cry like a little boy because he is lost, he is aimless without his Master. He has no idea what he is doing, and Obi-Wan doubts that he even comprehends the whole situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Does he even realize he has just defeated a powerful Sith Lord and his army? Or did he simply see them as an obstacle on his way to his Master that needed to be removed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>speak</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Anakin whines, his Darkness swirling around him tentatively, trembling with need but not daring to touch Obi-Wan’s sizzling Light again. “I want– I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>your words, Master.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is it you want to hear?” Obi-Wan finally asks, watching his Padawan gasp and shudder as though his words had literally washed over him in a freezing cold torrent. “Do you want me to tell you off or to tell you that I forgive you? That I accept you the way you are and love you no matter what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin stares at him, eyes huge and color draining from his face with alarming speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan knows perfectly well that he is poking at an open wound. Just a few hours ago, Anakin may have thought that any punishment was better than his Master’s infinite mercy, but Obi-Wan knows that deep down, his apprentice still desires it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Badly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, it must </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurt. But he just doesn’t think he deserves it. And it must hurt even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan has to suppress a satisfied smile, schooling his face into a strict and disappointed expression instead.</span>
</p><p><span>“I left you alone for two hours, Anakin. For </span><em><span>two</span></em> <em><span>hours.</span></em><span> And what did you do?”</span></p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Master, please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Anakin mewls tearfully, sending his dark aura to brush carefully against Obi-Wan’s, but the Light lashes out at it again, making it draw back with an offended shriek and recede inward almost completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin cries out in pain and staggers back too as if Obi-Wan had actually hit him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, you wanted punishment, didn’t you, boy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had me believe I was enough to keep you from doing bad things, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice sounds hurt, in spite of all his efforts to remain calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You lied to me. You killed an innocent girl, a potential ally and now,” Obi-Wan throws a quick glance at Dooku’s beheaded body, “a valuable source of intel too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Master.” Anakin hangs his head in a repentant pose. “And not just them.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin wasn’t going to tell him. In fact, he went to a great length to keep it a secret. But if this is the only way to get a truly emotional response from his cold, dispassionate Master, then so be it. He’ll make it more personal. Anything to break his serenity. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The one who wanted to be your friend,” Anakin starts, and his Master gasps, his eyes going wide in horror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bail…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The one who wanted to be your lover,” Anakin keeps listing coldly, his hungry eyes drinking in every feature of his Master’s shocked face when he utters in a strangled voice, “Quin...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the one who wanted to be your spouse,” Anakin finishes mercilessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine…” the Jedi whispers with only his lips, and Anakin </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates</span>
  </em>
  <span> how her name is the one that finally breaks his voice, so he doesn’t even try to hide his dark satisfaction when he admits, “I had them all killed, Master.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…” His Master’s throat constricts with tears, and his voice falters from how much Anakin’s confession has hurt him, yet there is no anger. Still </span>
  <em>
    <span>no anger</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Just a broken “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anakin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anakin frowns and tilts his head to the side, surprised that Master would even ask something so obvious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They wanted to take my place in your life, Master.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your Light is so cold,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Anakin wants to say. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You don't have enough warmth for anyone else. It's barely even enough for me alone...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t say it. Of course not. Though even under the warm blanket of his Darkness, he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>freezing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to death beside Obi-Wan Kenobi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t let them take what’s mine, Master,” is the only thing Anakin actually utters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Jedi turns away quickly, but Anakin still catches a glimpse of his beautiful face contorting in a pained, devastated expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not what he wanted. Not at all. Absolutely not. Never.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, his Master is supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span> with him. Full of his righteous indignation at Anakin’s impertinence and disobedience. So why is he in pain instead? He didn’t care about those people. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to him. He is the perfect Jedi – distant, cold and aloof. He only cares about duty. Nothing else. No one else. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master…” Anakin whispers in horror, only now starting to realize that there must have been some flaw in his logic. The flaw which led him to making a terrible, terrible mistake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has hurt the man who he was meant to protect and cherish all his life. How many times has he sworn to all stars that he would kill anyone who would dare cause his Master even mild discomfort, let alone pain? And now – the cruel irony: </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the one who has hurt him in the most terrible way. He was so angry, thrashing the walls around his Master’s ice-cold heart, that he didn’t notice how he broke it. Didn’t notice that Obi-Wan Kenobi was human after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master, I–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Jedi whips around, his hand shooting forward, and Anakin’s body is suddenly lifted and thrown backward like a ragdoll. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It stops abruptly, as if having met an invisible wall, and Anakin lets out a punched-out cry of pain and surprise. He feels pinned in place, wriggling his arms and legs like an upturned bug. His lips part around his ragged breaths, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scared. He should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not kriffing turned on, for Force’s sake!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tendrils of his Master’s sizzling Light shoot forward, wrapping around Anakin, binding his hands above his head, circling around his ankles, tightening around his throat like a collar and lifting him up even higher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bolts of lightning are crackling in the air around him, hot and furious, spreading out from behind his Master’s back like a spider’s web, and Anakin thinks distractedly that they must be cracks in the walls of reality itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another Force push – and Anakin’s wrists and ankles are pressed to the invisible barrier with a bruising grip, and with a thrill of excitement Anakin suddenly realizes that there is nothing – </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> – he can do as his Master draws nearer, the steel of his gaze more dangerous than the blazing fire of Anakin’s own and his voice deceptively calm but laced with a threat when he speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that the kind of reaction you were looking for, Padawan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Anakin can do is mewl pathetically in response, his eyes huge and unblinking, trained on his Master’s approaching figure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you want me to get mad at you and punish you like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>insolent brat</span>
  </em>
  <span> you are?”</span>
</p><p><span>His Master is now speaking the way Anakin has never heard before – loudly, </span><em><span>furiously – </span></em><span>his</span> <span>words lashing Anakin </span><em><span>physically</span></em><span>, leaving angry red traces on his skin and making him shudder with every syllable.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Yes, Master!” Anakin cries out, straining against his invisible shackles and throwing his head back in the unbearable agony of pain and pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Darkness thrashes helplessly around his wheezing, convulsing body but does nothing to save him. It would never fight Obi-Wan Kenobi just like Anakin never would. He simply relaxes into the tight grip, not even trying to struggle against it, just surrendering to it. Easily. Willingly. The way he always does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he rasps in a strangled, shaky voice. “Thank you, Master.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, he sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>relieved</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it seems to tear the Jedi out of the depth of his sorrow, rage and despair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you feel any remorse?” he asks, flatly again, but a little sparkle of hope is so bright in his eyes that for a moment there, Anakin considers trying to lie again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no. No more lying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Master,” he pants heavily and squeezes his eyes shut, as if expecting his Master to hit him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hoping</span>
  </em>
  <span> he would. “I’m not sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why do you want to be punished?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The genuine wonder in his Master’s voice startles Anakin. His eyes fly open, and he just stares at the Jedi. He doesn’t really know what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I deserved it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I like it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because you are finally angry, Master, and it makes me horny like nothing else?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I don’t deserve to be forgiven.” The answer falls off Anakin’s lips before he can stop it.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> to decide what you do or do not deserve, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you little shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” his Master hisses angrily, visibly restraining himself from grabbing his lightsaber. “You will only ever get what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to give you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please…” Anakin whines helplessly, writhing against the invisible wall, trying to get any friction for his hidden under layers and layers of fabric but still achingly weeping cock. “Just punish me, Master. I can feel how much you want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I</span>
  <em>
    <span> want you to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His body is shaking – </span>
  <em>
    <span>convulsing</span>
  </em>
  <span> – with an explosive mixture of arousal, fear and frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been such a bad Padawan, Master,” he coaxes, breathless with lust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thirsty. He is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>thirsty</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He will take whatever his Master is willing to give him. Even if it’s not love. Hate is fine too. Anger. Violence. He’s okay with that. Better than nothing. Better than his sharp, cold serenity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did horrible things, but I don’t regret them. Because I did them for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I was just trying to protect you, Master.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t ask you to!” His Master’s voice is shaking with barely restrained desire for violence, and it flogs Anakin like a whip. “I didn’t ask for any of it, Anakin!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you didn’t, Master!” Anakin almost growls with both pleasure and frustration, throwing his head back. “You never do. You never ask for </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And it’s driving me crazy! I need to serve you but I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Master looks stunned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their gazes lock in a duel of stubbornness for a long moment, and silence seems to be shaking with their labored breaths, until the Jedi finally lets out a long-suffering sigh and looks away, letting Anakin collapse to the ground in an ungraceful heap.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever came over him? He had never lost his serenity before. Not like that.</span>
</p><p><em><span>Ugh, so</span></em> <em><span>uncivilized</span></em><span>.</span></p><p>
  <span>“As a Jedi, I should arrest you right now for what you did,” Obi-Wan addresses the heap of limbs in the dust at his feet, calmly now. “But I suppose </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am the one to blame. I convinced myself I could control your violence. How stupid of me to have thought that I could tame a Sith…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a second, willing the remnants of his rage away. After all, it’s not Anakin’s fault that Obi-Wan has gotten hopelessly tangled in his own web. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> who dropped a match into the oil of the boy’s Darkness. And what’s been set aflame is supposed to burn, so he shouldn’t really be surprised to see the blazing fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Up,” he commands at last, and Anakin scrambles to obey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he rises no further than to his knees, peering at Obi-Wan from under his lashes, his lips parted around his erratic breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan wants to slap him. Force help him, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But unlike his tragically broken apprentice, he actually still has some semblance of control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not angry with you anymore.” The soft words of forgiveness cannot fully cover the steel of his voice. And what was that? Did he just use Force suggestion on himself? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stars!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As if to make himself believe, Obi-Wan grabs Anakin’s curls, making his head fall backward, and kisses him on the forehead. A slow, tender press of lips against the boy’s feverishly hot skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound his Padawan emits is not entirely human.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha– no, I mean– </span>
  <em>
    <span>No!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He opens his mouth, then closes it, then continues with his unintelligible mumbling. “Master, you… You can’t…be that way. You are…</span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You should be perfect. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Impeccable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You can’t just accept what I did. Aren’t you– Aren’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusted</span>
  </em>
  <span> by such an abomination?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan cups the confused boy’s cheek, forcing him to stop his uncontrollable torrent of babbling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you did was horrible, but I know your intentions were good. You’re just– You don’t see the line. Because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You are simply unable to.” Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a moment, just like he did (figuratively, of course) so many times before when his Padawan, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>little Ani</span>
  </em>
  <span>, didn’t express the appropriate emotions in certain circumstances involving other people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back then, Obi-Wan managed to convince himself that his Padawan was just very good at exercising the same unflappable Jedi serenity Obi-Wan himself had. But deep down, he has always known, could always see: Anakin’s soul is a black void. There is no emotion for anyone else in there. All of his Padawan’s emotions are for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only</span>
  </em>
  <span> for him – the one whose Light is able to spark them in the Dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not right. It’s scary. But maybe that’s just how Anakin Skywalker is supposed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like Obi-Wan himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No regrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No mercy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The unstoppable force.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And what were the odds of him meeting the proverbial immovable object in the form of Obi-Wan Kenobi?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They are the shield and the spear from the famous paradox, but the universe doesn’t like paradoxes, and, sooner or later, one of them will inevitably break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, maybe, they are already broken. The both of them. From the very first time they met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what does it matter now anyway?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgive you, my dear Padawan,” Obi-Wan breathes out, feeling a warm wave of relief washing over him, as if a heavy burden was lifted off his shoulders just as soon as he embraced the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy blinks, blinks, staring up at him with huge, disbelieving eyes. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unable to stop himself, he crawls forward and wraps his arms around Obi-Wan’s legs, pressing his forehead against his hip, and then practically </span>
  <span>collapses into Obi-Wan with shaky sobs, burying his face in his robes, his hands trembling as he grabs them for purchase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no… You can’t… You shouldn’t, Master...” He keeps shaking his head in denial.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>He never expected to be forgiven, did he? He thought he would die here. He thought Obi-Wan would come to his senses and finally kill him, </span><em><span>the</span></em> <em><span>Sith spawn</span></em><span>. He came anyway. He followed him to Korriban despite everything. He followed him when no one else did… A Sith who serves his</span> <span>Jedi.</span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Ani...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization startles Obi-Wan speechless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh...” He is only able to coo gently, Anakin’s relief and happiness overwhelming him in the Force even more than his own anger did earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a soft moan, Anakin leans into Obi-Wan’s hand caressing his curls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master, I–” He catches Obi-Wan’s palm and lifts it to his lips to press a reverent kiss against his knuckles. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, dear one.” Obi-Wan sighs with a soft smile on his lips and lets Anakin hide his face on his abdomen, the boy’s hands grasping at his robes as he uncontrollably sobs </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you, I love you, I love you”</span>
  </em>
  <span> over and over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan cradles his Padawan’s head against his chest, his fingers carding through his hair soothingly, until his tears won’t come anymore and his body finally stops shaking in the comfort of his embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Obi-Wan pulls away, holding onto his Padawan’s shoulders and looking down into his wet starry eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I accept you the way you are, Ani,” he says, and smiles gently as the boy chokes on his breath, his eyes going impossibly wide with shock. “And I do love you no matter what.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They are watching from where their ship almost crashed into a mountain top. They do not dare come down. They fear that if they do, the Darkness of this place will swallow them. It is not meant for the Jedi. It is almost physically rejecting them. They should have never let Kenobi and Skywalker go to Korriban in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From up there, they seem like little spots. Two small figures. Two great powers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Yoda, Skywalker’s Darkness is so strong,” Windu says, stunned, as he watches the black cloud coiling behind the young Knight’s back. “How did we not see it before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The green goblin is silent for a while, just observing the way Obi-Wan Kenobi is walking towards his former Padawan, all bathed in the Light of his halo. It shouldn’t even exist. It was supposed to be but a figment of the Skywalker boy’s imagination. And yet it’s real, and it’s unfurling behind Kenobi’s back, spreading out in all directions like a slowed-down explosion, blindingly bright in contrast with his former Padawan’s Darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too strong Obi-Wan’s Light is,” he finally states, leaning heavily onto his stick, still deep in thought. “Concealing Skywalker’s Dark presence, it has been. Like a moon reflecting the light of a sun, young Skywalker is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is this? What are they doing?” Windu chokes with indignation and disgust, watching the way Skywalker’s obsidian aura clings tenderly to his Master’s shining one. “This is outrageous! Filth! This is not the Jedi way! They are both Sith!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always two there are,” Yoda hums thoughtfully, “the Master and an Apprentice. But in the Light Obi-Wan stands, despite the shadow that his Padawan over him casts. Highly unusual, this is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did warn you, Grand Master,” Windu stresses. “I told you Kenobi would make the boy into a weapon only he could wield.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen to you, I should have.” Yoda nods, his ears sagging in regret. “To his Master, his loyalty is. To the Order, it is not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the Sith or not, we should arrest them,” Windu grits through his teeth. “We should proclaim them both Renegades and punish them for betraying the Order.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agree with you, I do.” Yoda nods again. “But let his Master get arrested, Skywalker will not. Die here, we might, yet try, we should.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, many thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Pray to him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
He didn’t even have to say no. He only looked down, his head turned to the side, just slightly, and Anakin instantly <em> knew </em>.</p><p>
  <em> Do not fight them, Anakin. No more killing in my name.</em>
</p><p><em> Obey your Jedi</em>, <em> little Sith</em>, Anakin’s mind immediately ordered him, even though his body was already taut like a string and ready to attack – to fight both Yoda and Windu to protect his Master, who was standing beside him, serene as ever and making no move to reach for his lightsaber. And no matter how reluctantly, Anakin bowed to him and lowered his own blade. “As you wish, Master.”</p><p>And that is why he is in the Temple’s holding cell right now and not standing in a pool of the Councilors’ blood. </p><p>What were they even thinking, trying to attack a Sith on Korriban, where Darkness is in the very air? They would have never won. Not if his Master had let Anakin fight to protect him.</p><p>But he ordered him <em> not to </em>, made him spare their pathetic lives, knowing full well Anakin could not disobey.</p><p>But why? <em> Why? </em></p><p>Anakin has no answer. Not yet, anyway.</p><p>They are holding them in different cells. <em> Pff </em>, as if it could possibly keep Anakin Skywalker away from Obi-Wan Kenobi.</p><p> </p><p>At first, it’s difficult to connect with the Force, with all the dampeners placed around his cell, but neither walls nor iron bars can stop his prayer. </p><p>The Force is everywhere. It’s in the very fabric of reality. It can’t be banished. Not even the Jedi technology can do that. Best they can manage is to disrupt one’s access to it. And that’s what they are trying to do to him now.</p><p>It feels as though his soul is wandering in the oily blackness, craving his Master’s Light but unable to find it. It’s cold and empty all around him, but under that carefully constructed illusion, Anakin can still feel the Force, hot and pulsating and <em> alive </em>under his fingertips. And that’s where his Master is awaiting him.</p><p>Perhaps, there is some particular thing, something special he has to say for his words to break through the barrier and reach his Master’s mind through the Force? Like a spell. Like a <em> password </em> . After all, his Master has always taught him that words are important. <em> Powerful </em>.</p><p>And so, Anakin has no other choice but to rack his brain over the blasted word like that enchanted boy from the old fairytale who was tasked by the Hoth Queen of Winters with spelling words using pieces of ice. The only difference is, that the sweet, dear word he is looking for is not <em> eternity </em> at all. It’s something else. It’s almost on the tip of his tongue. Almost there. Almost…</p><p>But Anakin just can’t think of it. He can’t. He <em> can’t </em>…</p><p>He cries. He sits on the floor and cries. For hours. Broken and inconsolable like a child. Until his Darkness finally takes pity on him and whispers into his ear, its voice lilting in a suspiciously familiar manner:</p><p>
  <b> <em>Ah, Anakin. You stupid boy. Stop seeking new words for a prayer to someone who has always been there, inside your very soul...</em> </b>
</p><p>And Anakin stops – stills entirely, his hot tears falling onto the cold floor of his cell with a deafening, reverberating sound.</p><p>Drip. </p><p>Drip. </p><p>Drip.</p><p>Anakin takes a shaky breath, and instead of the usual Jedi mantra, a better, <em> truer </em> version falls off his lips.</p><p>“I am one with my Master. He is with me. I am one with my Master. He is with me,” he chants and begs, “Force, give me a sign that he can hear me.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Everyone’s mind landscape in the Force feels different. Looks different.</p><p>Abstractions. Empty spaces. Nebulas. Gardens. Distant worlds.</p><p>Anakin’s is a barren black sand shore meeting the roaring ocean. He doesn’t remember where he saw it, but he must have been there at some point, since it has stuck in his head so permanently.</p><p>The waters of the ocean are dark and stormy, beating wildly against a towering black rock.</p><p>Lightning strikes it every few minutes, making it crumble just a little, and its pieces tumble down into the crashing waves.</p><p>The Force around it is growing powerful, humming in tune with the low rumble of the oncoming storm.</p><p>The waves roil and roar, unable to swallow the rock completely and helpless in their rage.</p><p>It’s almost painful to watch, but Anakin finds himself entranced by the view, hardly able to blink, let alone look away. </p><p>Roil. Crash. Retreat.</p><p>
  <em> I am one with my Master. He is with me. </em>
</p><p>Roil. Crash. Retreat.</p><p>
  <em> Wherever I go, his Light goes with me. </em>
</p><p>Roil. Crash. Retreat.</p><p>
  <em> May he be with me… </em>
</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>Anakin startles when his Master’s deep gentle voice resonates all around him, drowning out the noise of the roaring ocean.</p><p>The dark, angry waters calm, instantly turning back to turquoise, and the waves part as Obi-Wan Kenobi comes out of their depth.</p><p>The lightning strikes, and he catches it with his hand. Not even looking. <em> Effortlessly </em>. Like an ancient god, magnificent in his terrifying might.</p><p>“Padawan.” He sighs, shaking his head, but a small smile tugs at his lips anyway. “I see you are being <em> not dramatic at all </em> again.”</p><p>“Master!” Anakin exclaims, frozen in place, still struggling to believe his own eyes. “You’ve heard me! I’ve found it! I found the right word!”</p><p>“You have solved the puzzle.” His Master nods with a smile. “You spelled <em> devotion</em>, my dear Padawan.”</p><p>“Of course, Master.” Anakin dashes forward and throws himself around the Jedi’s neck. “I <em> am </em> devoted to you. Always. Always…”</p><p>He is squeezing his Master in his embrace, not even bothering to hide his desperation. He still can’t believe he’s actually done it – coaxed his Master to open up his side of the Bond and cross the bridge between their minds, finally stepping into Anakin’s consciousness. </p><p>He’s never done it before. Not even once over the years they’ve spent together. Not until now.</p><p>This is so significant. So <em> huge</em>. So–</p><p>“Ugh, you are crushing me, dear,” Master utters in a strangled voice, but doesn’t try to free himself from Anakin’s tight embrace.</p><p>“Sorry, Master.” Anakin gives him one last squeeze before reluctantly letting him go.</p><p>The Jedi stands beside him, looking over the pacified waters of the ocean.</p><p>“Why are you imprisoned too, Master?” Anakin asks quietly, his eyes following the curve of the man’s sharply defined profile.</p><p>“The Council are accusing us of surrendering to the Dark Side,” Master explains without the slightest hint of emotion, as if something like that happens to him every day.</p><p>“What?” Anakin exhales, completely stunned. “I mean, me– Fine, yes. But <em> you </em>, Master… I can’t even…”</p><p>He can’t even imagine how someone could possibly suspect his flawless, <em> divine </em> Master of succumbing to the Dark.</p><p>“That is outrageous!”</p><p>“Is it though?” His Master turns to him, his eyebrow raised in question, and his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. “I broke every single Jedi dogma while raising you. I betrayed everything I believed in and chose to believe in you instead. You showed me that the Light can be crueler than the Dark. I’ve been walking the path of doubt ever since, and now I am not sure of anything anymore. Where is the line between what’s good and what’s bad? I can no longer tell. I am lost, my dear Padawan. But you are not to blame for that. And it’s not too late. Stop following me. Choose your own path.”</p><p>Anakin stares at the Jedi in disbelief for a long moment and then just huffs out a laugh.</p><p>“If <em> you </em> are not perfect, then who is, Master? Who remains pristine and pure where there are no righteous left?”</p><p>“Anakin–”</p><p>“No, Master!” He doesn’t even let him start. “You <em> are </em> the perfect Jedi, and no one can convince me otherwise.”</p><p>“Not even the Negotiator himself?” His Master raises an eyebrow with amusement. “Perhaps, if you just let me try…”</p><p>“No, Master!” Anakin catches his hands in his palms, squeezing them gently in reassurance. “Please stop with this nonsense. I don’t know why you’ve suddenly decided to feel guilty and punish yourself, but I’m not letting you become a martyr. I will free you, whether you want it or not.”</p><p>“Don’t be silly, Padawan.” His Master slips out of Anakin’s grasp and waves him off. “We are both guarded by the Temple full of Jedi. There’s no escape.”</p><p>“I might not be a Jedi anymore, but my lightsaber is still just as fast,” Anakin assures his Master fervently. “You know I can save you. Just tell me <em> how </em>. Tell me what to do. Please answer me, Master!”</p><p>“I know you would shield me with your own body in your foolish eagerness, my Padawan.” The corners of his Master’s lips rise in a smile, yet his eyes are full of infinite sadness. “But you should not be my mindless durasteel shield. I can fight my own battles.”</p><p>“You are right, Master.” Anakin lowers his head. “I am not your shield. I am your <em> blade</em>. That’s what you’ve brought me up to be, remember? So why don’t you want to use me?”</p><p>“Oh, dear one...” His Master looks away for a moment, as if in shame, and when he raises his eyes to look at Anakin again, his expression is pure, painful regret. “I should have never done that. It was stupid and selfish of me to try and keep you on the Light Side by tying you to myself with devotion and making you into my own personal weapon. Trust me, you can be so much more. All you have to do is leave me and go your own way.”</p><p>“<em>Leave </em> you, Master?” Anakin echoes incredulously, staring at the Jedi with a mixture of wonder and horror, as if he is not completely sure that his Master is even in his right mind. “How can I possibly leave you if you and I are <em> one </em>? I speak with your words. I hold my lightsaber with your grip. And I look at the world through your eyes, Master…”</p><p>“And what do you see, Anakin?” His Master’s voice is very quiet, barely audible, and the Jedi himself looks shaken.</p><p>“I see the same vision you have, Master,” Anakin breathes out, as if in relief that the Jedi seems to believe him. “The wind-swept shrouds of the sky. The blood of dawn like a wound on your chest. The white became scarlet. And it no longer shines, no more towers reaching for the naked, silent skies – it’s empty and open to all winds…the broken shrine of our Temple…”</p><p>His Master closes his eyes and looks away, his face a picture of pure agony, as though Anakin’s words have just somehow made the vision true.</p><p>“Master?” Anakin touches his shoulder, offering comfort, but the Jedi startles and recoils from the touch.</p><p>“Now you know why I have let myself be captured and why I must stay here, Anakin.” His Master gives him an imploring look, as if begging him to let go of him, leave and let him finish what he started. “I can’t escape now. I must warn the Council about the Sith. I must wait for my trial. It will be the perfect opportunity to convince them that the threat is real. Because if I don’t…”</p><p>He doesn’t finish, too emotional to speak and his voice so uncharacteristically trembling, but Anakin already knows what will happen if he doesn’t.</p><p>The Order of the Force was supposed to distance itself from all secular rulers. How great it would have been in humility! But the Council has chosen to meddle in the Republic’s business, and now the whole Order is going to pay dearly for that.</p><p>“Master,” Anakin begs, “don’t you see, the Temple is doomed? That blood on your tabards in the vision will be <em> yours </em> if you don’t abandon the Order now. It’s rotten from the inside. It can’t be saved. And your sacrifice won’t change anything!”</p><p>“But Anakin...” Master looks truly lost. “What will I be if I am not a Jedi anymore? It’s all I’ve ever known. The Temple is my home. How can I abandon it?”</p><p>“I can’t believe I am the one to tell you this, Master,” Anakin licks his lips nervously, “but don’t you know that, even stripped of your Jedi robes and titles, you won’t be any less of a Jedi?”</p><p>“<em>Ani </em>–” His Master looks thunderstruck.</p><p>“No, Master, please listen, <em> listen! </em> ” Anakin implores, catching the Jedi’s palms again and squeezing them gently in his own with emphasis. “The Temple is not the house of the Force. You of all people should know that the Force lives inside <em> us </em>. In our souls. In our hearts. And it is the only Temple the Force needs.”</p><p>The Jedi looks at Anakin with a mixture of shock and bewilderment, as if seeing him for the first time.</p><p>“Anakin…” he breathes out. “I– I don’t know what to say–”</p><p>“Shh...” Anakin chuckles, winding his arms around his Master’s neck and pulling him into a comforting embrace. “You are ruining your reputation, Negotiator.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Even if Anakin is right and the Order truly is beyond saving already, Obi-Wan has decided to fight for it anyway. Of course, he has. After all, despite what people might think, Anakin is not the most stubborn of the two of them. Obi-Wan can’t just abandon his brothers and sisters in arms. He must warn them of the danger that awaits them, even if he doubts that they will listen.</p><p>Most likely, they will just execute him for treason. Or rather, they will <em> try </em>. And then… And then, of course, they will meet a fate even more terrible than what he saw in his vision. Anakin Skywalker’s wrath.</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan is standing before the High Council like he has done countless times before. And this time is no different: the Councilors have constructed double shields around their minds in fear of his masterful persuasion. And even hidden behind those walls, they are still shaking. They are too afraid of him to see reason.</p><p>“You are on trial for treason, and you still keep going on and on about some Sith who <em> allegedly </em> orchestrated the war,” Depa Billaba notes in wonder. “But what about the one you yourself brought up?”</p><p>“You are not perfect after all, Kenobi,” Windu spits out, not letting Obi-Wan answer and not even bothering to hide his glee. “You are as flawed as any civilian.”</p><p>“You can pretend to be a saint all you want, but by letting the Chosen One fall to the Dark Side you have sinned against our Order and our Republic,” Depa Billaba accuses. “Your own pride has led you to this moment.”</p><p>“Yes.” Obi-Wan nods curtly. There is no point in denying it. After all, she is right.</p><p>“You brought the Sith spawn into the Temple like the Holy Grail of old. You promised us he would work wonders for the Order. We trusted you, and you betrayed us. You taught the Skywalker boy to worship <em> you </em> ,” Luminara Unduli chimes in from her temporary Council seat. “You turned <em> yourself </em> into his Temple – the one higher than the Order, higher than the Republic we have sworn to protect.”</p><p>“Yes.” Obi-Wan doesn’t protest. He did all that, didn’t he?</p><p>“That path of yours, the one you walk and claim to have been shown to you by the Force itself – turns out to be nothing but your arrogance,” Plo Koon states, looking at Obi-Wan in utter disappointment.</p><p>“Yes.” Obi-Wan doesn’t contradict his disillusioned friend. He has a right to be angry with him.</p><p>“You’ve been corrupted and tainted by your spiritual depravity,” Windu denounces Obi-Wan with clear disgust in his voice. “Your soul is forever distorted by the thirst for the forbidden knowledge of the Dark Side.”</p><p>“Because of that knowledge to be sent into exile from the Temple, prepared are you?” Grand Master Yoda speaks for the first time. “Punishment for the lack of faith in the Light Side, that is.”</p><p>“Yes, Grand Master.” Obi-Wan bows to the little green goblin. He will take his punishment, whatever it is. He has brought it on himself, after all.</p><p>After the revelation the Force had sent him, he got depressed and broke like a sword under the onslaught of his transgressions. He lost hope and believed himself to be all alone in his fight against the Sith. In the darkness of his despair, he forgot the sound of prayers and mantras that used to calm him before. He has abandoned the Code.</p><p>He is questioning his faith. He can barely call himself a Jedi anymore. And yet, he is still determined to save the Order. The only problem is – Anakin is right – the Order can’t be saved. Because it refuses to be. It chooses to remain blind and deaf to the Sith threat Obi-Wan has warned them about. It only cares about his sins. About how low the best of them has fallen.</p><p>“This is your last chance at redemption, Kenobi!” Windu declares, and the chorus of voices echoes in agreement. “Repent!”</p><p>“Renounce your convictions!”</p><p>“Abandon your delusions!”</p><p>“Recant now!”</p><p>“We will forgive you, our wayward brother,” Ki-Adi-Mundi promises not unkindly.</p><p>“Just prove to us that you are indeed still on the Light Side,” Windu challenges. “Kill your Sith Padawan!”</p><p>“<em> No </em>.”</p><p>The word rings – sharp and angry – like a crack of a whip.</p><p>The Councilors recoil with a start.</p><p>“I could take your jealousy. I could take your contempt. I could take your fear. But I will not tolerate <em> this! </em>” Obi-Wan exclaims, both horrified and outraged. “I wished to protect you, but Anakin was right: you are not worth saving. And maybe I should just let you die.”</p><p>
  <em> Or let Anakin kill you... </em>
</p><p>Thunder rumbles outside, and lightning strikes the High Council Tower. Or maybe it isn’t lightning at all... Because it explodes on impact.</p><p>The Temple’s sirens blare out.</p><p>It has begun.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, many thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Protect him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy New Year, guys!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It all happened so fast. Obi-Wan doesn’t really know what it was. All he knows is that the Force had pulled him backward, out of the way, before the blast wave had the chance to hit him.</p><p>Darkness coiled tightly around him like a protective cocoon, hissing angrily at the offending force of the explosion and pushing it back, away from him, so the wave of the flame washed over him, never touching his skin, and he watched, as if in slow motion, how the ceiling of the Council Chamber tumbled down.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p><em>"No!</em>” he shouts but doesn’t hear his own voice – only the pain echoing through the Force.</p><p>Somebody’s arms encircle his waist, holding him back, pulling him away.</p><p>“No! Let me go! I must help…” Obi-Wan tries to wriggle out of the grip, but the hold on him is secure.</p><p>“No, Master! <em>Please!</em>”</p><p>Slow and disoriented, Obi-Wan barely registers that it is Anakin’s voice pleading into his ear over the high-pitched ringing in his head. “They are <em> gone</em>. There is nothing you can do for them.”</p><p>“No, I must try! Let go!” Obi-Wan urges frantically, kicking and twisting in his Padawan’s arms, but Anakin doesn’t budge.</p><p>“Master, the tower is going to collapse. We gotta go! Please!” he tries to reason, his voice strained with urgency and despair, but then he probably sees that Obi-Wan is too shocked to listen to him because he just grabs him tighter and pushes with the Force, throwing them both out of the shattered window...</p><p> </p><p>They are falling in the chaos of their billowing tunics, Anakin’s embrace holding Obi-Wan securely, tucking him safely into his body like the most precious fragile thing, while their Light and Darkness swirl around them, spreading like two wings – black and white – eager to assist and break their fall.</p><p>Above them, the remnants of the Council Tower crumble with a sharp cracking sound when the structure snaps in half in the middle like a broken sword. And they watch it, having landed safely on the roof of the Temple, they watch it fall and <em> shatter to dust</em>… As though the Force abandoned it as soon as Obi-Wan’s faith did. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, no. It can’t be. It can’t be...” the Jedi keeps whispering in shock and disbelief as he falls to his knees, no longer held back or propped up by Anakin’s arms.</p><p>Anakin is standing beside him, his gaze averted from his Master’s grief, letting him mourn his loss for a moment.</p><p>The sirens are still blaring in the wailing wind. The remaining towers are burning like torches, the ash swirling in the air and falling down like snow, landing beautifully into the auburn fire of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s hair. </p><p>
  <em> A crown of sorrow. </em>
</p><p>Who could have thought the prophecy would come to life so soon? What seemed like an improbable, distant future just a few days ago is a terrible reality now.</p><p>A sudden gust of wind – and the once azure banner of the Jedi Order is ripped off the central tower and thrown down. It falls to the ground at Anakin’s feet, torn and smoldering at the edges.</p><p>It’s all over for the Jedi: their High Council is gone, and the Order is no more. </p><p>Anakin picks up the fine, silver-embroidered fabric. <em> Ruined </em> now.</p><p>And, frankly, Anakin couldn’t care less, but the pain and suffering of the other Jedi dying somewhere under the debris of the burning Temple are suffusing the Force, oily, and sticky, and impossible to shake off. </p><p>Anakin swears under his breath and sends his Darkness to shield his Master from it, bending down to drape the torn banner around the Jedi’s shaking shoulders. An illusion of comfort.</p><p>The Darkness hums contently, eagerly wrapping around its beloved and caressing him with its soothing touch.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Why are you mourning the Councilors, my sweet Jedi? Why are you blaming yourself? Weren’t you ready to let them die just a few minutes ago? Didn’t you want me to kill them? You know they deserved it, so why are you still sad that they are gone? How can you have compassion for those who had none for you or your Little Ani?</em></b>
</p><p><b><em>No, don’t weep over the dead, my darling. They were not your brothers and sisters. You are the </em> </b> <b>only</b> <b> <em> child of the Light. You are special. And you are the only one who matters. You are perfect. Precious. You were born for me to adore and protect. I won’t let any harm come to you. You will be safe with me. Always. Always…</em></b></p><p>Anakin’s Darkness is cooing gently, the sweet little nothings pouring like honey all around his Master in the Force, but Anakin sees that the Jedi’s eyes are still empty – glassy with devastating grief.</p><p>Anakin blinks, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. He doesn’t know what else to do to stop his Master from feeling what he is feeling because Anakin himself doesn’t feel <em> anything</em>. Not the pain. Not the sorrow. Nothing. </p><p>Pity, sympathy, empathy – the three steps leading to compassion so highly praised by the Jedi.</p><p>Step one – to acknowledge someone’s suffering.</p><p>Step two – to care about it.</p><p>Step three – to feel it as though it were your own.</p><p>And then, if you also want to do something to relieve that suffering – then it’s finally compassion.</p><p>That’s all well and good in theory. In reality though… </p><p>In reality, Anakin had to learn all that by heart, <em> drill </em> it again and again, to at least <em> know </em> the concept even if he can’t actually <em> do </em> any of it. Can’t actually <em>feel </em> any of it.</p><p>What “positive” feelings he has for other people are nothing but small reflections of his Master’s emotions – little popup hints telling him that he should copy the Jedi’s reaction and act upset, or serious, or interested. He has been practicing a lot, and now if he really needs, he can pretend that he feels all that too. But nothing as <em> catastrophic </em> as what his Master is feeling now – <em> that </em> Anakin can’t imitate for the life of him. Because no matter how hard he tries, he doesn’t understand how it is even possible to care about anyone other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. Only he can elicit any emotional response from him at all, and only for him Anakin’s feelings spill out, wild and uncontrollable. <em> Truly disastrous. </em></p><p>And even though consciously Anakin does realize that right now his Master is very, <em> very </em> distressed and needs someone who can sympathize with his grief, he still doesn’t know how to fake an appropriate emotional response to all the deaths around them, and it, in turn, makes <em> him </em> distressed too.</p><p>Anakin takes a deep breath, willing his panic to <em> go the kriff away</em>. He doesn’t have time for this bantha fodder! He needs to be focused, dammit! He needs to protect his Master, now more than ever. Because he is clearly too consumed by his sorrow to be thinking straight.</p><p>Right. <em> Right... </em></p><p>Anakin reaches out to try and pull his Master’s hunched, mournful figure up from the ground, cooing gently, as if talking to a child, “We have to go, Master. It’s not safe here. And there is nothing here for us anymore. The Order has fallen, just like you predicted. It’s their own fault they didn’t want to listen to you.”</p><p>“No!” The Jedi pushes Anakin’s hands away, sudden anger filling the void of his gaze. “The Temple might be lost, but who says that one Sith Lord is more powerful than the entire Jedi Order?”</p><p>He lowers his head, hitting the ground with his open palm in stubborn determination.</p><p>“I <em> refuse </em> to accept that. The Order lives as long as even a single Jedi lives. And renegade or not, <em> I am a Jedi</em>.”</p><p>His mouth agape, Anakin watches in awe how his Master rises gracefully from his knees, some unknown, wild fire blazing in his eyes and the desecrated banner billowing ominously around him in the wind.</p><p>Even stripped of his traditional Jedi attire, dressed only in simple leggings and a tunic, he stands with the magnificence of a king, wearing his faith like impenetrable armor.</p><p>Backlit by the flashes of the glowing sky, his aura is crimson like the spilled blood of the murdered Jedi.</p><p>An avenging angel, both beautiful and terrifying in his wrath, he closes his eyes, submerging fully into the Force, his Light spreading through it in all directions like a blast wave – a warning signal for all the remaining Jedi scattered across the Galaxy.</p><p>
  <em> “This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our old Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Sith rising to take their place."</em>
</p><p>Anakin listens to his Master’s words thundering throughout the Force, and his skin crawls. Despite the contents of the message, it is still truly <em> magical </em> to witness the famous Negotiator weave the gems of words into the fabric of the Force itself, interlacing and binding thousands of souls and minds together.</p><p><em> “</em><em>This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not </em> <em> return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain."</em></p><p>The Jedi’s voice almost breaks with grief when he lowers his head, tears glistening in his eyes.</p><p>He clears his throat and speaks again, even though he looks as if it is causing him almost physical pain.</p><p><em> “</em><em>We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, I believe a new hope </em> <em> will emerge."</em></p><p>Obeying a pull of the Force, a lightsaber emerges from the debris and springs into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s hand, someone’s cerulean blade hissing to life even after her owner’s death.</p><p>
  <em> “May the Force be with you. Always."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“How did you manage to get out of your cell?” his Master inquires absentmindedly, rushing along the Temple’s corridor, making Anakin almost run after him to keep up.</p><p>“Wasn’t a problem, Master. It’s <em> chaos </em> out there,” Anakin explains, out of breath, throwing a tentative look at the Jedi, as if afraid that he might suddenly do something rash and dangerous – something Anakin himself would do in a situation like this. But his Master is not like him. He is everything Anakin is not. Everything Anakin can never ever be.</p><p>“We need to find you a lightsaber,” the Jedi says absently again, deep in thought but calm and collected, all put together and not at all as shocked and broken as he was just a few moments ago. It gives Anakin a strange, uneasy feeling that makes his skin crawl, as if in anticipation of a looming catastrophe.</p><p>Anakin shakes his head, berating himself for being stupid and ridiculous instead of concentrating on the problem at hand.</p><p>“Um... Well...” Anakin stutters, making his Master stop mid-stride and whirl around to look at him in suspicion.</p><p>“I kinda found one already, Master,” Anakin hurries to explain. “But you’re not gonna like it.”</p><p>Under his Master’s inquisitive gaze, Anakin takes the hilt of the first lightsaber he could grab in the rush of his escape out of his high boot and turns it on, lowering his head and averting his face.</p><p>The blade cuts through the dusty twilight of the corridor. <em> Angry red. </em></p><p>“It’s Dooku’s saber,” Anakin clarifies needlessly, still not looking up, as if in shame.</p><p>“<em>Of course </em> it is.” Master looks away with a sigh too, as though it is hurting his eyes to see his Padawan’s features sharpened by the crimson glow of a Sith’s blade.</p><p>He chuckles humorlessly. “Oh well, seems only fitting.”</p><p> </p><p>“General Kenobi! Commander Skywalker!” Cody rushes towards the Jedi across the main hall.</p><p>“Commander Cody.” </p><p>Skywalker scowls as his Master greets him, the usual pleasant smile on his lips despite everything that’s happening. </p><p>“Please report our current situation.”</p><p>“A few enemy fighters have launched an airstrike on the Temple, sir. How they managed to get past Coruscant’s defenses is still unclear. The Temple’s structure has sustained severe damage, but the roof will hold for now,” Cody reports immediately. “What will be the orders, General?”</p><p>“First things first. Close the gate. Raise the shields,” the Jedi tells him, as calm and serene as ever.</p><p>“Yes, sir!” Cody nods, immediately activating his comlink and relaying the order.</p><p>“How many troops do we have?” the General asks.</p><p>“Only the Open Circle Armada is currently at the Temple, sir,” Cody answers solemnly.</p><p>“Ah, yes.” Kenobi nods, the corners of his mouth rising slightly. “You must have been grounded by the Council after I took off to Korriban, huh?”</p><p>“Indeed, General.” Cody nods with a little mischievous grin too, and Skywalker throws him a warning glare.</p><p>
  <em> Flirt back at him again, and I will kill you. </em>
</p><p>Having recognized it, Cody hurriedly takes a step back.</p><p>“What about the losses?” the Jedi Master asks, his voice carefully blank.</p><p>“There are many casualties within the Temple, sir,” Cody says carefully, as if expecting the General to lash out in anger, but Obi-Wan Kenobi is nothing like his spitfire Padawan. He closes his eyes for a second, his expression pained, but nods, indicating that he is ready to proceed.</p><p>“On the bright side,” Cody continues tentatively, having looked at Skywalker for permission and having gotten a nod, “we are receiving transmissions from thousands of Jedi all over the Galaxy, promising to return to protect the Temple immediately, so we only need to hold on until the reinforcements arrive...”</p><p>Cody’s hopeful voice falters when he sees the General’s face contort, as if in sudden sharp pain. Skywalker clenches his jaw.</p><p>“Idiots!” he mutters under his breath and looks at his Master with his eyes almost pleading. For what, Cody doesn’t know. All he knows is that the General has suddenly paled and looks as though he is about to faint.</p><p>Cody dashes to catch him, but the Skywalker boy is already there, his arm wrapping protectively around his Master’s waist.</p><p>“It’s okay, Master. It’s not your fault. You’ve done everything you could to warn them. They are all just dumb. Brave and dumb,” Skywalker croons softly <em>– so softly</em> <em>– </em>despite the harshness of his words.</p><p>“Sir, I don’t understand<em>–</em>” Cody tries, but Skywalker just barks out, turning to him in a startling movement, “the Jedi <em> must </em>stay away from Coruscant, or they will walk into a trap and die!”</p><p>Now it’s Cody’s turn to feel sick and lightheaded.</p><p>“I–” he stutters. “General, what do we–”</p><p>“Contact the Clone Commanders of all the GAR fleets. Tell them to stop their Jedi Generals from coming back to Coruscant.” Kenobi’s voice is steady now, and he doesn’t look like death anymore, but his pale hand is still squeezing his Padawan’s arm in what looks like a bruising grip, and the Jedi boy doesn’t seem to mind at all. On the contrary – he looks almost happy as he covers his Master’s hand with his own in a reassuring gesture. </p><p>“Tell them to shoot if they have to,” he says to Cody darkly. And having noticed Cody’s terrified expression, the General rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement in his voice as he clarifies instead of his Padawan, “Anakin meant stun mode only. <em> Obviously.</em>”</p><p>Skywalker only smirks with a half-shrug, and Cody isn’t entirely sure that <em> that </em> is what he actually meant.</p><p>“Search the Temple for survivors. Get the wounded to the Halls of Healing. Gather everyone who can fight in the main hall.” The General’s voice sharpens around the orders in the way Cody has never heard before. “We won’t be able to evacuate now, not without leaving the Archives to the enemy, so we must coordinate our forces before the ground assault and try to fight them off.”</p><p>“The ground assault, sir?” Cody frowns. “Do you think the clankers will actually siege the Temple?”</p><p>“Oh, but <em> of course </em> they will,” the Jedi answers as if it goes without saying.</p><p>“But, General…” Cody’s frown only deepens. “The attackers only succeeded because no one expected them. But surely, now they won’t dare send troops, not into the middle of the galactic capital. Now that everyone is on high alert, they won’t be able to get through the planetary shields anyway.”</p><p>“They already have, Commander,” the General states coldly. “And don’t fool yourself, thinking it was an accident that they managed to slip through our defenses. Someone with the highest level of clearance has let them in.”</p><p>“What?!” Cody exclaims in unison with Skywalker.  </p><p>“But I thought they had been sent by the Sith Lord, Master.” The General’s Padawan frowns in confusion.</p><p>“And they were.” The Jedi tilts his head in confirmation and turns to walk away, leaving his angry boy and Cody to stare after him, their mouths agape.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>After a long pause, the Clone Commander is the first to recover. He turns to leave too, but Anakin catches his forearm.</p><p>“Commander Cody,” he addresses the clone quietly. “A word, please.”</p><p>“Of course, sir.” Cody nods firmly, but his expression is apprehensive.</p><p>Anakin doesn’t care.</p><p>“I’ve already spoken to my own battalion, and now I want you to understand something and tell your men as well,” he starts without preamble.</p><p>“Sir?” Cody frowns in confusion.</p><p>“Despite appearances, the General can be as reckless as I am,” Anakin confesses with a sigh, as if it actually pains him to admit that. “He’s just very <em> calm </em> about it. But at some point, perhaps even today, you might have to choose between executing his orders and saving his life.”</p><p>Anakin pauses for a second, taking in the clone’s terrified expression when the idea dawns on him.</p><p>“And if it comes down to it, Commander,” Anakin continues with emphasis, “I want you to pick <em> him</em>. No matter how many other lives are at stake. <em> Choose him. </em> Without a second thought<em>. </em> Over millions if you have to. Because no one <em> – </em> not a single person in the world <em> – </em> is as important as he is. If he dies, the Galaxy dies too. Am I clear?”</p><p>Anakin knows his eyes must be glistening with the Sith gold as he makes his threat, but he doesn’t care. He crosses his arms on his chest, expecting Cody to object or try to refuse, but the clone only nods curtly.</p><p>“Understood, sir. Protect General Kenobi at all costs.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The Sith Lord’s army attacks at sunset. Just like his Master predicted. The dome of the sky shatters into a million of flaming pieces as they fire at the deflector shield. A swarm of Jedi starfighters rises up to meet them.</p><p>Anakin knows, the best pilot in the Galaxy, he should be up there with them, leading the remnants of the Golden Squadron. But his mission is not to fight for the Temple – it’s to protect his Master. So instead, he tugs the cowl of the dark cloak Rex has found for him over his head to cover up the way his eyes are glowing maliciously, blood-thirsty and eager to fight.</p><p>Accompanied only by a small squad of clone troopers, his obsidian silhouette ominously backlit by the lights of the Temple, Anakin marches outside its gates and down its steps into the dark. To meet the enemy.</p><p>
  <em> May the Force be with you, Ani. </em>
</p><p>His Master’s blessing washes over him in the Force in a gentle, soothing wave, sparkling all over his skin like a scattering of stars.</p><p>Anakin doesn’t say it back. There is no need: the Force is <em> always </em> with Obi-Wan Kenobi. And if he keeps his faith in it, the Light of the Jedi will prevail over the Dark Side once again.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“May the Force be with us!” The battle cry echoes across the halls of the Temple, taken up and carried along by dozens of voices.</p><p>The shooting stars of blaster fire and the sizzling heat of Jedi blades – the two waves clash together and break, splattering among the walls of the Temple.</p><p>Obi-Wan Kenobi had seen it long before it even happened, but he has decided to defy fate anyway. </p><p>It’s just as Anakin has always feared: his Master has decided to die, having known nothing in his life – no love, no passion, no fear – nothing but duty. Decided to fight his last battle among the cold, indifferent ruins of the Jedi Temple. </p><p>His fingers still clenched around the torn fabric of the Jedi banner, he is smiling, light-hearted and heedless, ready to follow the voices that are calling for him through the Force and step over the last threshold into its infinity. Leaving the Temple forever. Staying in the Temple forever…</p><p>But Anakin <em> will not </em> let it happen. He will not let that cursed banner turn red in his Master’s grip as he presses it to his chest one last time. He will not allow him to become a martyr for the Order that calls him a renegade. He will not let Obi-Wan Kenobi become one with the Force. </p><p>No, his Master is supposed to be one with <em> him! </em> No one else can have him. Not even the Force.</p><p>For once, he isn’t the impatient, reckless one. For once, his Master might actually need his protection. And he is allowed not to hold back – to do whatever it takes to win this battle for the Jedi.</p><p>He sees fear in the others’ eyes when they fight beside him. They are afraid he might turn against them next. The crimson blade is not exactly helping either. But Anakin doesn’t care. They <em> should </em> be afraid. The stupid little Jedi, so lost without their Council that they are willing to fight side by side even with a Sith. Although, of course, as long as they follow Obi-Wan Kenobi’s orders as he leads them into battle, they have nothing to fear from him. Anakin Skywalker is just a blade in his Master’s hands.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>High are the walls of the Jedi Temple. As high as the price of arrogance – of thinking that the Force will always be with them, will always light their way and help them in their time of need just because they are the Jedi, its faithful warriors.</p><p>Obi-Wan slumps to the floor, someone else’s lightsaber falling out of his unclenched hand and bouncing away.</p><p>He is victorious again. But at what cost?</p><p>The blood painting the steps of the Temple is ruby red – the color of pain and rage. And it’s his pride that is to blame.</p><p>Dozens of clones and Jedi have given their lives to protect something that only shines on the outside but is dead and rotten on the inside. The Temple that has nothing holy anymore. The Order that can ask a Master to kill their own Padawan as proof of loyalty...</p><p>Was that legacy really worth protecting?</p><p>He could have just left. He could have abandoned the Temple. But no. He had to be brave. He had to borrow his Padawan’s flair for drama and accept the battle, even though the odds were so clearly not in their favor. All because he had <em> faith</em>. He believed that the Force had led him to that moment, had chosen him to save his brothers and sisters, exchanging his life for all of theirs. He thought the Force would guide its knights and spare their lives in the battle they were fighting in its name. He <em> wanted </em> to believe.</p><p>Out of the two gifts the Force had given him, out of the two ways – he chose the hard one. The scary one. The one where there was blood seeping through his Jedi robes out of the hole in his chest. But he wasn’t afraid to give his life to let all the other Jedi escape the Sith Lord’s trap. He chose the Light Side. He chose martyrdom. But it’s not him who has turned out to be the martyr in the end. It’s the others. Those who stood bravely with him among the burning ruins of their Temple.</p><p>Two hundred twelve of them are dead now. </p><p>Two hundred twelve are a small price to pay to save thousands.</p><p>Only two hundred twelve lives – and the Light Side has won.</p><p>Two hundred twelve lives...</p><p>Perhaps, he should have chosen the Dark crown after all. </p><p>But he hasn’t. He <em> hasn’t</em>, and now, his soul is dying under the burden of guilt, and he does the only thing he knows – he <em> prays </em> to the Force. Fervently. Angrily. Demanding answers.</p><p>
  <em> Tell me, Force, who will answer for the deaths of those who stood bravely under your banners? Where were you when your army prayed to you in haste before the battle? Did you march with us? Were you with us when we fought for your sacred Temple? Answer me, Force! Why are you silent? </em>
</p><p>But there is no answer. Because neither the Daughter of Light nor Anakin’s suave Darkness has ever promised to be with all the Jedi. Only with <em> him alone</em>. </p><p><em> Always. </em> <b> <em>Always</em></b><em>. </em></p><p>And so, he is alive and they are dead, and someone is going to answer for that, even though revenge is not the Jedi way.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck the Jedi way. </em>
</p><p>Obi-Wan clenches his teeth and reaches out through the Force.</p><p>“Anakin! Come to me, dear. We have things to do.”</p><p>Yes, he <em> definitely </em> should have chosen the Dark crown.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N 1:<br/>I used the original canon message Obi-Wan sent to warn the Jedi, only having altered it slightly. I thought it would be a nice touch :)</p><p>A/N 2:<br/>As you have probably guessed, I used the imagery of the Jedi Temple March moment (only in reverse, of course, because I’m still not over how good Anakin looked in that sequence).<br/>Also, yes, Obi-Wan and Anakin kinda gave the light version of Order 66, sorry.<br/>For full experience please listen to this:<br/><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBLGSAipX2M">Star Wars: Order 66 Theme | TWO STEPS FROM HELL STYLE</a><br/><br/>As always, many thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. What will you call him?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, may I stay with you tonight?” Anakin is standing in the doorway of his Master’s bedroom, shifting tentatively from one foot to the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is nervous. He hasn’t done it since he was a child. Not since his Master forbade it...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room hasn’t changed one bit, even the bombing has spared it, and now everything is still exactly how Anakin remembers it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And even his Master sits up on his bed, sleep-ruffled and adorable, just the same. And now Anakin is even more pleased that he has managed to talk him into having some rest before going after the Sith Lord.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it, Ani?” The Jedi blinks slowly, still a bit disoriented, but graces Anakin with a soft smile anyway. “Are you having nightmares again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must have not woken up properly yet, or maybe it’s just the force of an old habit, but he shifts a little on the bed to make room for Anakin like he used to when Anakin was still a scared little boy. But now Anakin doesn’t dare to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about slipping under the sheets the way he did back then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just one.” He flops onto the floor at the foot of the bed instead, leaning his back to rest against it and drawing his knees to himself like a sulking teenager.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fixes the door with a piercing glare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master sighs and shifts on the bed again, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of Anakin’s head, among his tousled locks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to worry. The battle is over for now. Just go have some sleep. No one will attack me here, dear one,” he tries to reassure, and Anakin can hear the usual indulgent smile in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s being patient with him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For once we agree, Master. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No one</span>
  </em>
  <span> will attack you,” he promises solemnly. “Go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anakin</span>
  </em>
  <span>...” Master breathes out with another long-suffering sigh, his name a reproach in itself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master.” Anakin lowers his head stubbornly. “I know you never believe that you might be in any danger, but no one is ever safe anymore. Not even the Jedi. We were attacked in our own Temple! How did this happen? I thought we were smarter than this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently not,” his Master chuckles sadly and slips back under the sheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin sighs, turning to look at him, and has to bite his lip to stop a giggle when he sees his Darkness already crawling subtly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>tentatively</span>
  </em>
  <span> over his Master’s form like a soft, fuzzy blanket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good night, Master.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>*****</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He is tired. Let him sleep under the cover of Darkness. Let him be safe. Let him forget all his sorrows</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s lips move silently as he prays for his Master, kneeling at the foot of his bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi’s sleeping form looks ethereal, bathed in the cold light of Coruscant’s moons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is so close, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so close</span>
  </em>
  <span> – Anakin could reach out and touch his almost translucent skin. Could press his lips to it. Could worship every inch of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The temptation</span>
  </em>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, the Devil is enticing him again. Of course he is. That’s what he does – even when he is sleeping, all the more alluring in his fragile innocence.</span>
</p>
<p><span>He doesn’t even need to do anything. He </span><em><span>never</span></em> <em><span>does</span></em><span> anything. He simply </span><em><span>is</span></em><span>, fascinating and seducing Anakin with his very existence.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Who would have thought the Devil to be so pure? But that’s just it. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And that’s how he makes everything around him look tainted and corrupted in comparison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes Anakin feel depraved just to silently want him, so righteous and holy, as though his filthy lust could somehow desecrate his Master’s divinity.</span>
</p>
<p><span>He is</span> <span>too pure. Too sacred.</span></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Forbidden.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The word’s sweet poison pours into Anakin’s veins, and that is how desire becomes </span>
  <em>
    <span>sin</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And here he is, the Devil’s poor apprentice, praying to him to take his twisted soul. It deserves to burn in Sith hell after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t touch him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t look.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s fingers dig into the sheets with a death grip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He is not for you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Look away.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is trying but he can’t bear it. His gaze is drawn back to the fallen angel before him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“…Unallowed to touch. Unable to look away. Doomed to suffer for his sins for all eternity..." </span>
  </em>
  <span>his memory supplies unhelpfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That poor demon from the book. Anakin knows he is no better than him now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He huffs humorlessly, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is being dramatic again, isn’t he? With all the dusty metaphors from ancient manuscripts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Master would definitely tease him for it if he knew what he was thinking about right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anakin.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Master would definitely…</span>
  <em>
    <span>recoil</span>
  </em>
  <span> in horror and disgust if he knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because why, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you being like this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Do you have to stare?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Do you have to be creepy?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You promised to watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>over</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, not watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, remember?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin grits his teeth and clenches his fists in his Master’s sheets with frustration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Turn away.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Let him sleep.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not touch.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not look.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not think.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a truly inhuman effort, Anakin makes himself let go of his Master’s bedding and presses his palms to his own burning face instead, covering the hungry gold of his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Darkness hisses angrily around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Let us watch! We must watch!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Anakin whispers brokenly, shaking his head. “No, go away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Let us look at him one more time!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Darkness wails like a hurt beast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Anakin keeps shaking his head with stubborn determination. “You are disgusting. You are an insult to everything he is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>But I am you!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Darkness coils around him like a huge snake, as if trying to constrict him, but Anakin very pointedly ignores it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am one with my Master, he is with me. Wherever I go, his Light goes with me…” he whispers, whispers – quickly, fervently – and the Darkness recedes, yielding to the power of his prayer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If only his forbidden desire would do the same. If only he could just meditate it away like some annoying thought. But no. It is too deep. It’s in his very bones. It’s in his blood, making it boil and run hotter than lava in his veins. Melting him from the inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And his Master is sleeping, calm and peaceful, while Anakin is falling to pieces before him. He is just sleeping. Knowing nothing of his Padawan’s desire. Wanting none of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And isn’t it ironic that the only one who his Master actually needs his protection from, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Anakin Skywalker, his faithful Padawan?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Force must truly hate Anakin for something to have given him this pitiful fate. No matter what he says or does, it never changes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought it did – back on Korriban, when his Master said he loved him no matter what.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, Anakin was almost ecstatic, too overwhelmed by his joy to </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But now, when his mind is relatively clear of that all-consuming happiness, he knows that Master didn’t mean it. Not in the way Anakin wants anyway. His love for him is still </span>
  <em>
    <span>pure</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not stained by lust. Not tainted by desire. Wholesome.</span>
</p>
<p><span>That’s why his charming, playful Master will flirt with anyone and anything, but </span><em><span>not</span></em> <em><span>him</span></em><span>. Never him.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t exist. There is no Anakin Skywalker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Little Ani</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a silly boy from Tatooine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Padawan</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a stubborn, reckless student.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Apprentice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a fallen Jedi, a darksider, a Sith.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there is no Anakin Skywalker, a man Obi-Wan Kenobi could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>in love</span>
  </em>
  <span> with. And nothing, not even what happened on Korriban, could change that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, his Master’s new lightsaber will be as cerulean as ever, fit for his heavenly spirit, and Anakin’s… Anakin’s will be crimson now, like the blood he has spilled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Things have changed. Things haven’t changed at all. They never will. They can’t. His cruel fate has him in its sharp claws. There’s no escape. Unless…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who can be as clever as to trick fate itself if not the Devil?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His love, his joy, his agony – he should be praying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not the fate, not the Force. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe then, he, who is deaf to his pleas, who is blind to his tears, will finally acknowledge his existence, and Anakin’s name will have the chance to be so much more than just the name of devotion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you praying to, Ani?” His Master’s voice, thick with sleep, startles Anakin out of his transfixed state. “It’s not a mantra to the Force.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is no rebuke in the Jedi’s voice, only wonder, but Anakin still lowers his forehead to rest on the foot of his Master’s bed where he is still kneeling, as if in shame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t praying to the Force, Master,” he says, his voice muffled by the cool sheet he is pressing his flaming face to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> you praying to, my Padawan?” Master sits up on the bed to gaze at Anakin with barely restrained curiosity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin looks up at him – glowing in the amber hues of the morning sun, all soft and delicate, his usually auburn hair now honey-yellow and artfully disheveled – and forgets how to speak altogether.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” His Master raises an inquisitive eyebrow and slips his fingers under Anakin’s chin to stop him from bashfully averting his gaze the way he usually does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was praying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Anakin finally breathes out, staring at his Master unblinkingly, completely mesmerized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Master draws back in amazement. “But, Anakin, sweetheart, how many times have we talked about this? </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not a god.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He explains it to him as if to a child – </span>
  <em>
    <span>again, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the umpteenth time – and Anakin has to fight the unbidden tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>child</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore, and his Master is not a god.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you are not, Master.” He averts his gaze after all. “You are the Devil.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The Devil?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the Jedi exclaims, both amused and astonished at the same time. “Don’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculous</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Anakin! There is no Devil. It’s just a legend of the Old Republic and a silly nickname.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But… The book– And that’s what she said too,” Anakin insists incoherently. “You are the brightest of angels. That’s why she wanted to kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who, Anakin?” Master looks utterly confused now. “What are you even talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Senator Amidala,” Anakin clarifies, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “She said you would rebel and destroy the world.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Master snorts, raising an eyebrow with derision. “You know what? I actually might.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckles, taking in Anakin’s awed expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am going to find out who the Sith Lord is and destroy the old world he has built for himself,” he explains simply, as if talking about the weather. “Do you want to stop me, Padawan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Master! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Never!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Anakin’s eyes widen with horror at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>very idea </span>
  </em>
  <span>that his Master can even assume something like that. “I promise, I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> betray you. I’ll do whatever you say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With pleading eyes, he scrambles up to stand on his knees, reaching out to catch his Master’s palms in his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> you will, darling. You have no other choice but to obey,” Master laughs softly. “Has no one ever told you that you should </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> sell your soul to the Devil?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Master...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi laughs again, looking at Anakin’s perplexed expression, which is nothing if not just </span>
  <em>
    <span>precious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it is too late now. You are all mine.” He makes “scary” eyes, just like he used to when he was telling little Anakin the hair-raising stories of his adventures on distant planets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master!” Anakin gasps indignantly. “It’s not funny! I’m serious!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He honestly tries to maintain a serious expression but can’t help giggling, seeing his Master’s contagious smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then tell me, Padawan mine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why in Sith hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> did you feel the need to pray to me if we could just talk?” Master wonders humorously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I–” Anakin drops his gaze, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s just... The book didn’t say, and I– I don’t really know how to worship the Devil. I thought...maybe it’s like with the Force...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t worry. You’ve been doing just fine so far, my dear.” His Master’s melodious laughter makes butterflies flutter joyfully in Anakin’s stomach, and he almost whimpers with pleasure when the Jedi ruffles his hair in an affectionate gesture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now let the Devil finally get up and have his cup of tea. It is going to be a long day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll get it for you, Master.” The boy springs to his feet and dashes towards the kitchen, leaving Obi-Wan to shake his head and smile quietly to himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is a very simple trick, really. How to distract Anakin Skywalker from his drama in two simple steps?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Step one – tell him you want something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Step two – sit back and watch him fall over himself to get it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cup of tea or the entire Galaxy – </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll get it for you, Master.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of his own sorrows forgotten, he will throw himself completely into fulfilling his Master’s wish with his infamous single-minded determination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A clink of porcelain and a muffled curse come from the kitchen, and Obi-Wan chuckles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stars!</span>
  </em>
  <span> He is so bad at it, poor thing. He kills Sith Lords, he destroys entire armies – but he still can’t make a decent cup of tea. Not for the lack of trying, of course. Oh no, he is trying so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Anything to please his Master. It’s just that it’s very difficult to make tea when your fingers are trembling with barely restrained desire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Funny, but it is not at all Obi-Wan’s leash that doesn’t allow Anakin to close the gap between them. No, it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anakin himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, pushing his want down to the point where he might actually die solely from the effort of holding back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is the one who put his collar on himself. He is the one who shackled himself. And he is the one holding that chain he is so desperately straining at.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now if that isn’t ironic…</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan is moving around his quarters, getting ready. His hair is still a bit damp from the shower and sticking out in all directions, and Anakin is going to drop the cup of tea he has so carefully prepared for him. He always does. Every time he sees his usually impeccable Master this disheveled, he thinks it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>art</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And Obi-Wan is already used to his reverential expression – mouth agape, stars in his eyes – and those poor broken cups, a new one almost every week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does nothing to stop it. He does nothing to mend it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Let him gasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Let him break the finest porcelain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Let him look and never touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>art</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if that’s the name Anakin has given him, then he should remain in his glass case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not touch, Anakin.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And if Anakin pictures him as an angel, all perfect and divine, then why is he so frustrated that, no matter what he does, the only reaction he ever gets is Obi-Wan staring benevolently down at him with his all-forgiving grace? What else does he expect from a holy angel?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, the boy should really be more careful with those names he keeps giving him. But he isn’t, is he? He never calls him by his actual name. It’s never </span>
  <em>
    <span>Obi-Wan</span>
  </em>
  <span> – it’s always something else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And what was that just now? </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Devil?</span>
  </em>
  <span> That one is new. For Anakin, at least. Where did he even get it from?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That name… Well, perhaps, he does deserve it after all. The name his adversaries have given him for spinning lies and half-truths into the silk of flattery and promises and for making them think it’s their royal mantles when, in the end, it turns out to be their shrouds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They say, he has the power to talk anyone into selling their soul (figuratively, of course). And oh well, he probably does. But it’s not that. Anakin wouldn’t care about that. There must be another reason he has decided to call him </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Devil</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Let’s see…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, the boy has always loved his dusty books of old legends as it is. And then there is that Senator Amidala. She must have put the idea into Anakin’s head. The boy has always been a little too impressionable, after all… But Anakin would have never listened to anyone else’s words but his Master’s. So no, there must be another reason then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The proverbial Devil has many names, one of the best-known being…</span>
  <em>
    <span>the Tempter.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, no wonder Anakin has chosen to call him that. He’s finally given a name to his suffering. And a very clever one too, Obi-Wan can appreciate that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How does that legend go again?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan concentrates, trying to recall the passage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“A dragon in the form of an angel, perfectly disguised so that no one would suspect a thing. Born of Light. Beloved by the Darkness. The Rebel. The Leader. The Ruler of This World.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes. That’s what his Padawan has chosen to call him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not bad at all, huh?</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Crack!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Master. I’m so clumsy.” The boy drops to his knees to wipe up the spilled tea. He is flushed bright red and his hands are shaking. Of course they are.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s quite alright, my dear,” Obi-Wan reassures him, giving him one of his infuriatingly indulgent smiles, as he crouches to pick up the shards of the broken cup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Master, don’t–” Terrified, Anakin reaches out to stop his hand, but it is too late, and blood is already spilling onto the pale fingers where the sharp edge of the cracked china has cut into the porcelain of his Master’s skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin utters a strangled gasp, silently wondering if it is okay for a Jedi Knight to faint at the sight of blood.</span>
</p>
<p><span>He is not afraid of blood itself, of course. But it’s not just blood. It’s </span><em><span>his</span></em> <em><span>Master’s</span></em><span> blood, ruby-red drops glimmering like jewels on his elegant fingers.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s all his fault…</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rich, metallic taste floods his mouth, attacking all of his senses at once and making him snap out of his daze of panic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, stars!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Did he just seriously take his Master’s hand and suck his abused fingers into his mouth?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What is happening?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How</span>
  </em>
  <span> is this happening?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How–</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fingers slip out of his mouth, leaving a smear of blood and saliva on his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I…” Anakin is gasping like a stranded fish, but no sound wants to come out. There are no words. No words to explain why his tongue was just now lapping at the injured pads of his Master’s index and middle fingers before Anakin let them slip through the tight ring of his lips further into his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are no words to explain why his eyelashes fluttered when he sucked the bleeding fingers into the wet heat even deeper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there sure as Sith hell are no words to explain why he </span>
  <em>
    <span>moaned</span>
  </em>
  <span> – loud and shameless – around them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are no words…</span>
</p>
<p><span>But his Master’s eyes are round – baffled and scandalized – just like his choked out </span><em><span>“Anakin!”</span></em><span>, so</span> <span>Anakin </span><em><span>must</span></em><span> find those words.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a shuddering breath to make his heart stop trying to break his rib cage and jump out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” he tries again, his eyes pleading. “Master, I–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am obsessed with you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to suck your dick more than anything in the world?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, that would work just brilliantly, considering that he will probably just choke and die before he even brings himself to say the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>dick</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his Master’s presence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just kriffing great!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin gives a resigned sigh and hangs his head, squeezing his eyes shut and stilling completely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No going back now anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, I want to worship every inch of your skin with my mouth...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that is…</span>
  <em>
    <span>new</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, because you got it into your head that I’m the Devil?” Obi-Wan honestly tries to laugh it off, giving his poor, impulsive Padawan a dignified exit from the situation he has so recklessly trapped himself in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Take it, Anakin.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Before it’s too late. There are some things, after all, even the Negotiator can’t talk his way out of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But despair has already mixed with determination in the furnace of the boy’s burning aura. Melting into courage. Forging itself into the words that can’t be brushed off as open to interpretation anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Master. Because I love you. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>in love</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you,” the boy whispers, barely audibly, squeezing his eyes shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>So this is it then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could have become anything – whatever he wanted. His little brother. His dutiful Padawan. His best friend. His faithful guardian. There were so many names he could have called himself – so many things he could have been for Obi-Wan, but he has chosen this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A lover.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what Anakin Skywalker wants to call himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t strive for the peace and serenity of the Light Side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t crave the strength and power of the Dark Side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He only desires one thing – his Master’s love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>silly</span>
  </em>
  <span> boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know what he is getting himself into. He has no idea what his sweet, tender Master will do to him if he stops holding himself back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is still so naïve after all, his little virgin Padawan. He probably imagines that if it comes to that, Obi-Wan will kiss him sweetly, and undress him unhurriedly and carefully, and then look him in the eyes with </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much affection </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he slowly takes him apart...  </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan draws back and rises to his feet in one smooth motion, its abruptness startling Anakin out of his almost shocked state.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stares up at Obi-Wan with huge, scared eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t go. Please don’t go, Master,” he begs, babbling nervously like a little child and clutching at the hem of Obi-Wan’s tunic. “Don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to– I know it’s not the Jedi way, but I just can’t help it. It’s burning inside me. It’s tearing me apart. But I’ll push it down again, I’ll push it down, I promise. It won’t bother you anymore. I swear, Master! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s how he begs for his love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, Master, let it stay!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if it is a pet he is forbidden to keep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if Obi-Wan could somehow get rid of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well, he has tried. Force help him, he has. For ten years, he has been battling against it tenaciously, brushing it off, ignoring it, pretending that it’s something else entirely in hopes that it might simply go away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, it hasn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No matter how many names Obi-Wan has tried to give it, it’s still not </span>
  <em>
    <span>brotherly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, still not </span>
  <em>
    <span>platonic</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Because Anakin has chosen other names for it. He calls it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Passion</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He calls it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Desire</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He calls it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Want</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Need</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and that’s what it is, his ruthless, relentless love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan fears that he might be powerless against it in the end. He has no words that could cure it. He has no words that could forbid it. He has no words…</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin jumps to his feet, dashing after his Master when he moves across the room to sit in his armchair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kneels at his feet, gracelessly, as though his legs have just refused to hold him up anymore, buckling under the unbearable weight of his guilt: he has hurt his Master, he has betrayed his trust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whole posture of Anakin’s body – his palms pressed to the floor, his hunched back, his bowed head – is a plea for mercy, even though his mind is still firmly convinced he doesn’t deserve it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His limbs are shaking with little tremors as he wheezes, harsh and loud, struggling to breathe, “I’m so sorry, Master! I know I shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have done anything. It was an accident, I swear. I just panicked. I lost control for one single moment and…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s voice cracks as the tears of shame constrict his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just stronger than me, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside. I just– It’s driving me </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master…” Anakin whispers, barely audibly, as if afraid to say it out loud. “It makes me want to be more than just your dark shadow, more than just a blade in your hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Always more...” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin doesn’t dare lift his gaze from the floor as he confesses to his sinful desires. He </span>
  <span>doesn’t feel worthy of even looking at the man before him – the one who gave up his entire life to raise a stupid slave boy like his own brother only to have that boy throw his </span>
  <em>
    <span>abominable, disastrous</span>
  </em>
  <span> love into his face in return.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the worst of it </span>
  <span>– </span>
  <span>the worst of it is that he doesn’t actually need to raise his eyes to know that his Master’s face is an unaffected, emotionless mask of serenity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if there are strong emotions somewhere deep, deep inside those cold blue eyes – they are not for him. They are literally for </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> else but him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For him</span>
  <span> – there is just a bitter, barely-there aftertaste of disappointment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For him</span>
  <span> – there is carefully concealed shock and disgust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even the anger and pain of betrayal are not pure. They must be all suppressed, and diluted, and covered up with layers and layers of the calm, forgiving indulgence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The perfect Jedi again. Not even Korriban has changed him. Not even the unjust imprisonment. Not even the attack on the Temple.</span>
</p>
<p><span>Sometimes it seems to Anakin that one day he might cut himself on the sharp edges of his Master’s durasteel heart and just </span><em><span>kriffing</span></em> <em><span>bleed to death</span></em><span>.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>He knows it’s stupid, and pathetic, and completely, utterly useless, but he does it anyway. He begs again.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Master, please, please, for once, have </span><em><span>real </span></em><span>mercy on your poor Padawan! I can’t pretend to be your little brother anymore. Don’t you see I’m barely alive from how badly I long for your affection? I’m begging you, Master...just give me some other name!” Anakin weeps hysterically, choking on his sobs and ducking his head to appear even</span> <span>lower on his knees before the Jedi. “Call me your joy. Tell me I can be the one who brings you happiness. Tell me you might one day love me back. Lie to me, Master! Please! </span><em><span>Please! </span></em><span>Call me your dear, call me anything</span> <span>but what I am now</span><em><span>, </span></em><span>Master! </span><em><span>Anything!</span></em><span>”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, Force! What is he even saying?! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obscenity!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And stupid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why couldn’t he hold back his kriffing lust? Why did he have to spill all that </span>
  <em>
    <span>filth</span>
  </em>
  <span> right onto his Master’s pristine robes of purity? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is just disgusting, twisted Sith scum. He shouldn’t even be allowed to look at Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, the most luminous of the Jedi…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his Master’s words are so powerful. They are Anakin’s last hope. Maybe they can reshape reality for him. Maybe they can change his miserable fate. Maybe, if he believes hard enough...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Anakin just sits there, not daring to lift his head, his face obscured by the strands of his unruly hair, and waits for his Master’s verdict.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan leans back in his chair with a smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all think that him being all charming, and flirtatious, and dangerously tempting is just a carefully constructed façade covering his reserved and composed Jedi calm when he needs it to. Well, what if it is the other way around? What will really be revealed underneath when his mask of impeccable self-control falls off?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something darker? Something dangerous? Something that tastes like honey but paralyzes like a neurotoxin?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, his poor, naïve Padawan. Already infected. Already feverish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span> when you are like this,” Obi-Wan purrs, his voice wrapping around the boy’s Force Signature like golden silk. “So desperate, my darling. So beautiful when you’re crying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, the look on the boy’s face when his head snaps up in shock!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What is it, little Padawan?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not at all what you expected? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Never thought your Master would tease you? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Are you going to cry about it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears are already streaming from under Anakin’s fluttering lashes down his flushed cheeks, and Obi-Wan can’t help but lean forward and taste them with his lips, pressing a hot, lingering kiss to where the scar almost touches the corner of Anakin’s eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me your eyes, Ani.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His whole body shaking, slowly, reluctantly, the boy lifts his heavy eyelids, peering into Obi-Wan’s eyes from under his tear-clamped lashes with an absolutely hopeless expression of a man who knows he will be endlessly teased but can never get what he wants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyes, my little Sith boy,” Obi-Wan urges gently, grazing his nose along the line of his cheekbone and feeling Anakin tremble like a leaf.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Molten gold spills into his irises, drowning out the blue, right before his pupils start to dilate dramatically – like two hungry black holes expanding in the cores of yellow suns, swallowing them almost completely and making them appear dangerously dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dear one,” Obi-Wan praises, his lips moving against the skin of Anakin’s cheek with feather-light touches as he speaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin shudders, throwing his head back with a punched-out, completely stunned “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Master?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan laughs, leaning back in his chair, stretching out slowly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>languidly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and tugs at the layers of fabric covering his neck to expose the snow-white skin underneath, knowing full well how badly Anakin is obsessed with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want it, darling?” Obi-Wan asks innocently, as if offering him some tea, and immediately has the pleasure of seeing the boy’s eyes go entirely black with greedy desire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Master! Yes! Yes! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Anakin leans forward, mesmerized by the sight, and…freezes, remembering that he is not allowed to touch. Not yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could let you press your lips right here. As a </span>
  <em>
    <span>treat</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Obi-Wan draws out, as if contemplating it, dragging his finger along the column of his neck, and Anakin chokes on his saliva. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But,” the short word hits him like a slap across the face, “do you think you</span>
  <em>
    <span> deserve</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, Padawan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin whimpers in distress, straining visibly, forcing himself to draw back. Like a miserable puppy kicked by his cruel owner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can only have your treat if you think you have deserved it, dear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan almost laughs, watching his poor apprentice writhe and squirm with his desperate need, it spilling around him in the Force, spreading like a spot of engine oil on the clear water surface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan can see Anakin’s Darkness drawing tight around him, trying to cover and protect its vessel from falling apart completely, but all in vain. The boy always lays himself so bare for him – so open, so vulnerable – that nothing can shield him anymore, not even the Dark Side of the Force itself. It has left its heir entirely at Obi-Wan mercy. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>non-existent</span>
  </em>
  <span> mercy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan wants to laugh at the irony of it all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Little Anakin Skywalker once thought the black hole of his soul could lure and trap the poor Jedi Master who had the misfortune to have heard his siren call. And look at him now. His own shroud of Darkness is on fire. It is blazing all around him, the angry tongues of the flame licking his skin with burning touches.   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breathing is ragged and hot. He is shaking all over. Hysterical. Torn between his hunger and his obedience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, please! I know I haven’t always been good. And I don’t deserve the treat, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>please!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the boy whines, groveling on the floor at Obi-Wan’s feet, his blond hair disheveled and his clothes in disarray. He looks ruined. Delirious. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Possessed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because what can be worse than there being no treat at all? Only knowing that there is a treat you can’t have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, I’ll be good. I’ll behave. I’ll be so good for you. So good. I’ll do anything. Whatever you want. I’ll do it for you. Just let me–” Anakin chokes on his own pleas, panting heavily through his open mouth like a hunted beast. And he stares, stares hungrily as he crouches to the floor – stares at the milk of Obi-Wan’s skin with unblinking, fascinated eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me taste your skin, Master. Let me touch it with my lips. I’m begging you! Just once…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His lips are red and glistening, his mouth salivating like crazy, as if Obi-Wan’s neck were an actual exquisite dessert, and when Obi-Wan spreads his knees a little, Anakin slips forward, almost pressing his lips to it in his unbearable thirst, but…freezes again. At the very last second. Hairbreadth away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan still hasn’t given the permission.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Padawan’s ragged breaths are burning Obi-Wan’s skin where he is panting – hot and wet – against the column of his Master’s throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan bites his lip, throwing his head back with an exhale of utter delight: the boy’s struggle to control himself is almost more exciting than any intimate touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, how much his Padawan wants his Master! How badly it hurts! To the point where he knows no difference between pain and pleasure anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Master</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” The word is like a brand burning into his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Ani,” Obi-Wan breathes out, his fingers getting tangled in the boy’s curls, holding him in place, “you always beg so prettily.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mha..” Anakin gasps, shuddering bodily but still propping himself up on his arms as he crouches over Obi-Wan’s chair, not touching him in any way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Restrained desire.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at you, Padawan,” Obi-Wan croons. “So patient, so obedient for your Master. Too bad it’s only when I </span>
  <em>
    <span>force</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin mewls pathetically, far beyond any coherent thoughts whatsoever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh, honey,” Obi-Wan coos, pressing a chaste kiss to his Padawan’s temple when the boy starts choking on his wet sobs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s painful to watch, and it’s time to decide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What should he do? Should he do the usual and treat Anakin’s love just like his every other emotion? Ignore it and leave him to drown in it until he is completely spent and barely alive?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or should he finally teach him to sip it slowly, savoring every moment like good wine?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well, perhaps it’s time to try new tricks after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are right, Anakin. Of course, you are not my little brother,” Obi-Wan admits with a sigh, as if still reluctant to shatter his Padawan’s innocence. Except, was there ever anything to shatter in the first place?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah…” Anakin exhales, his eyes huge with astonishment. He looks so relieved as though some enormous weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you see it yet? You are just what you want to be.” Obi-Wan reaches out to gently brush the damp curls from the boy’s forehead. “You are my </span>
  <em>
    <span>toy.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan breathes the last word right into the boy’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin shudders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nghh</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he mewls. Loudly. Obscenely. Throwing his head back and baring his throat. Leaning into Obi-Wan’s hand caressing his hair like the touch starved mess he is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan strokes up his neck to the top of his head and fists his fingers in the boy’s sweaty curls. A long, slow draw of tension.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Such a good little boy toy,” Obi-Wan murmurs. The highest of praise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Yes! I am. I am…” Anakin is choking himself on his ragged, breathless gasps. “Play with me! Play with me, Master!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan closes his eyes, as if it pains him to see his Padawan like that. A quivering mess. A world on fire. Chaotic disintegration right over his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I broke you once, a long time ago, and ever since then, you’ve kept falling apart,” Obi-Wan confesses simply, tilting his head to the side. No emotions. “I don’t know how to put you back together. And I can’t throw you away because I have grown attached. So I just keep playing with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Build you up.” Obi-Wan tugs at Anakin’s hair, bringing their faces together, their lips less than an inch apart. Almost touching. Almost...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin whines, and Obi-Wan immediately pushes him away. “Break you down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin tumbles backwards to the floor at his feet, looking shell-shocked.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Over and over again,” Obi-Wan whispers softly </span><span>–</span> <em><span>cruelly</span></em> <span>– leaning down to almost press his hot, wet lips against Anakin’s ear as he murmurs.</span><span> “Hell, I think I might have even lost some pieces. That’s why you are never complete. Never satisfied. Always wanting more and more…”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin whimpers. He looks lost. Dizzy. Disoriented. He reaches up to circle his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, desperately trying to hold on to him, to keep him there, but Obi-Wan grabs his wrists and unceremoniously pushes them away, leaning back in his chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin wails like a hurt beast, and his Darkness echoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Let us worship you, Master!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Dark veil is trembling and rippling all around them, hungry and impatient, but it doesn’t dare cling to Obi-Wan’s Light without permission.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Whipped</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Just like its boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin dashes forward, as if yanked by the leash of his unbearable lust, and freezes over Obi-Wan again, caging him, his trembling arms propping him up on the armrests of his Master’s chair as Anakin looms over him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan almost raises his palm to place it over his Padawan’s chest in a warning, but the boy doesn’t need it </span>
  <span>– he is already still above him, only panting harshly as he devours Obi-Wan with his dark eyes, his hands clutching at the armrests with a death grip but not touching Obi-Wan. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>daring</span>
  </em>
  <span> to touch Obi-Wan. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me my treat, Master. Please! Give me something! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Let me kiss your neck. One kiss. Just one. Please, I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> dying</span>
  </em>
  <span>, please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” An endless litany again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan’s lips part around a long-suffering sigh, and he lets his head fall back on the headrest, exposing more of his throat to Anakin’s burning stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright then,” Obi-Wan allows mercifully at last, seeing that Anakin is almost ready to pass out from the emotional overload. “Just one kiss. No more. Do you understand, my Padawan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Master,” Anakin whispers with only his lips, his eyes huge with disbelief. “Yes, yes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s never actually thought he would get even that, has he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan laughs quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy dashes forward and fuses his mouth to the pale expanse of Obi-Wan’s throat with a groan that’s not entirely human.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wet, open-mouthed kiss caress Obi-Wan’s jugular where his pulse is beating, unhurried and steady. Unaffected by lust. Immune to desire. Because there is no passion, there is serenity. Every Jedi knows that. And Obi-Wan is still a Jedi, isn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you, Master. Thank you. Thank you…” The words are pressed into Obi-Wan’s skin, pushed into it by Anakin’s insatiable lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you a Jedi, Obi-Wan? Are you? Are you? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The Force echoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah…” Obi-Wan gasps, his hand sliding up Anakin’s nape into his hair to gently guide him away, but the boy refuses to move his lips from his skin, mouthing at his throat with the desperation of a man dying of thirst.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dear Force, such </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking at Anakin, Obi-Wan doubts that there is peace at all. Only </span>
  <em>
    <span>passion. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The tragedy of the Sith. The path to the dark Side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Should Obi-Wan follow Anakin down that path? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Should he turn around and walk away? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Should he...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah-nakin…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The name is no longer a reproof on Obi-Wan’s lips – it is a sigh of pleasure, and that little catch in it is enough to push Anakin into his ecstatic bliss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master!” he gasps in astonishment, catching the air with his mouth, as his eyes roll back into his head and his lips part around a moan, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>oh!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Darkness howls triumphantly around them, satisfied at last, and Obi-Wan laughs quietly, pushing Anakin’s shuddering body off and back to the floor at his feet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>where he belongs.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And his laugh is soft, and melodious, and not even a little insane. Not at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, many thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p>
<p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Revenge of the Jedi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello there!<br/>I know you guys probably don't scare easily (I mean, since you've read this far, lol), but my wonderful beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong> and I have still decided that this chapter might need a trigger warning. It contains MAJOR SPOILERS though, so I’m gonna put it in the end notes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ani, my darling…” The endearment is dripping off Obi-Wan’s tongue like the sweetest honey. “It’s been hours… Do you want to let go of me now?”</p>
<p>“No, Master.” The boy at his feet shakes his head and, as if in a transfixed, meditative state, just keeps peppering Obi-Wan’s bare ankles with little kisses, completely lost to the world. Now that he is finally allowed to touch his Master <em>like this</em>, it doesn’t look like he <em>can</em> ever stop. He looks drunk. He looks feverish. He looks like he is caught in never ending ecstatic pleasure, blissed out of his mind.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Obi-Wan sighs, looking into the boy’s wide-blown pupils and giving him his usual indulgent smile. “But we have something we must do, remember?”</p>
<p>Anakin only hums something unintelligible in response, completely engrossed in his current task.</p>
<p>“First things first, since our lightsabers were never recovered from under the rubble, we’re gonna need new ones, so we have to go to Ilum,” Obi-Wan muses, more to himself than Anakin. </p>
<p>The boy at his feet takes a shaky breath and starts trembling violently, but doesn’t utter a single sound. </p>
<p>Obi-Wan cringes inwardly: he knows Ilum is the last place Anakin would want to go. Worse than Tatooine. Worse than Korriban. Ilum is where his greatest fears take shape.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan remembers all too well how going there a decade ago almost broke his little Ani completely. After walking out of those caves, the boy was not just constantly distressed – he was <em>inconsolable</em>. He would scream in his sleep every night. He would cry for hours on end. And he was falling apart right before Obi-Wan’s eyes every time he had to let go of his Master’s hand. Force, he was such a clingy mess!</p>
<p>He has grown since then, of course, but, unfortunately, it doesn’t mean he has defeated his childhood fears. It only means that they have grown with him.</p>
<p>“Shh, my sweet little boy.” Obi-Wan brushes Anakin’s curls out of his face and catches his chin, making him look up. “I won’t let you anywhere near those caves this time. I’ll get you a crystal myself.”</p>
<p>
  <em>The one that sings in tune with my Light. The one that will scream and bleed, poisoned by your Darkness.</em>
</p>
<p>Obi-Wan doesn’t say that out loud, of course. He shouldn’t even allow that to happen. But he will. The first Jedi to let a Sith corrupt a kyber crystal right before his eyes. Oh, Force, what <em>blasphemy</em>…</p>
<p>Obi-Wan almost shudders from the sudden rush of guilty pleasure as he imagines that.</p>
<p>The boy is staring up at him with huge, unblinking eyes, so dark that they don’t appear human anymore. He is panting heavily through his open lips, as if trying to breathe his lungs full of his Master’s satisfaction.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan addresses him again, not really hoping for a response though, “And then I was thinking we could make a little detour on our way back. Well, it is more like...flying in the completely opposite direction, actually, but I am sure you’re gonna <em>love</em> it.”</p>
<p>He pets Anakin’s curls gently, “Consider it a little gift I’ve wanted to give you ever since I met you, <em>my dear Ani</em>.”</p>
<p>Butting his head into Obi-Wan’s palm, Anakin almost purrs at the caress and the endearment he loves so much.</p>
<p>“And then, of course, we have to go to the Senate.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Anakin’s head snaps up, his posture suddenly tense and defensive, as if something in Obi-Wan’s words has triggered it. “We don’t have to answer to them anymore, Master.”</p>
<p>“No, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan chuckles, tilting his head to recognize Anakin’s point, “but <em>they</em> will have to answer to <em>us</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, General Kenobi!” The Chancellor smiles, but it does very little to conceal his expression of an unpleasant surprise. “It is always a treat to have the Negotiator join our session, and, <em>of course</em>, you are authorized to speak on behalf of the Order, but I’m afraid the matter of such importance requires the presence of the Grand Master himself.”</p>
<p>“I <em>am</em> the Grand Master,” Obi-Wan states coldly and, accompanied by the chorus of the Senators’ surprised gasps, steps into the central floating pod where the Chancellor is already standing, looking almost scandalized now.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s pride and satisfaction rolling off of him as he moves to stand behind his back: his eyes practically light up every time someone addresses Obi-Wan as the head of the Order these days. That’s what he’s always wanted, after all – no authority higher than his Master’s.</p>
<p>“Oh my!” The Chancellor is forced to take a step back, making room for his uninvited Jedi guests, and his smile is still as false as they come. “Then I guess…our congratulations!”</p>
<p>“I am sure my brothers and sisters would prefer <em>condolences</em> on the passing of our entire High Council.” Obi-Wan fixes the old man with an ice-cold glare, and Anakin shifts behind his shoulder, probably sensing his Master’s displeasure and not knowing what to do about it. Poor thing. </p>
<p>“But <em>of course</em>,” the Chancellor corrects himself. “We just didn’t want to believe it was true until all the bodies were recovered from under the rubble. The entire Council and even Grand Master Yoda himself! A tragic loss indeed.”</p>
<p>“<em>Indeed</em>, Chancellor.” Obi-Wan tilts his head, not even bothering to hide his derision, and the honorific sounds like an insult, coming out of his mouth.</p>
<p>Anakin snorts quietly behind his back, and a genuine smile tugs at Obi-Wan’s lips in response.</p>
<p>“Well then, <em>Grand Master</em> Kenobi.” The Chancellor’s face contorts around the title as if he has tasted something sour. “Looks like you will have to be the one to answer before the Republic for your Order’s treason.”</p>
<p>“<em>Treason?</em> Dear me!” The way Obi-Wan so very obviously feigns surprise draws a wave of rather unseemly giggling out of the Senators, and the Chancellor scowls.</p>
<p>Only Anakin doesn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes anymore. He tenses behind Obi-Wan’s back, shifting from one foot to the other, coiled like a spring and brimming with indignation.</p>
<p>
  <em>Treason! How dare they!</em>
</p>
<p>That’s exactly what Obi-Wan is going to find out.</p>
<p>“Well, I suppose I would like to hear the charges then,” he says, openly challenging.</p>
<p>Who will dare speak against the Negotiator?</p>
<p>The Senate falls very silent, as if everyone is holding their breaths in anticipation. But a moment passes, then another, and nobody speaks up.</p>
<p>“Well?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, spreading his arms. Oh well, perhaps his Padawan’s love for drama has rubbed off on him after all.</p>
<p>Nobody moves to stand up, as if they have all frozen in their seats.</p>
<p>The Chancellor pulls a face, pressing his lips with disdain, and raises his voice.</p>
<p>“I guess <em>I</em> will speak on behalf of the Senate then.” He takes a step forward, to Obi-Wan, and judging by the way Anakin shifts behind his shoulder again, it’s not a very smart move.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s voice lashes him in the Force before he has a chance to mess things up.</p>
<p>
  <em>Be still. Be quiet.</em>
</p>
<p>And even without turning his head, Obi-Wan knows that his apprentice has staggered back a little and frozen, trembling under his robes.</p>
<p>Still and quiet.</p>
<p>
  <em>Good boy.</em>
</p>
<p>“Jedi Generals have abandoned their missions on the battlefields all over the Galaxy, giving our strategic positions up to the Separatists,” the Chancellor starts, addressing the Senate, as if to remind them why exactly they should be outraged and not amused and swayed by the Negotiator’s charm.</p>
<p>“Perhaps, they wouldn’t have had to if our Temple, which is supposed to be <em>protected by the Republic forces</em>, hadn’t been attacked in broad daylight, for all of Coruscant to see, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan deflects. </p>
<p>“Ah, so it was <em>you</em> who recalled all the Jedi back to Coruscant then, Grand Master Kenobi?” The Chancellor can barely hide the glee in his voice, having so easily found someone to pin all the blame on.</p>
<p>“Yes. I gave that order,” Obi-Wan lies, looking the Chancellor dead in the eye. </p>
<p>“Well, where are they all then?” the Chancellor inquires with strange urgency in his voice. “Why didn’t they come to fight for your Temple?”</p>
<p>“That is Jedi business,” Obi-Wan retorts, crossing his arms on his chest and raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. </p>
<p>The Chancellor winces, his face contorting with irritation.</p>
<p>“Then where are all the GAR battalions?”</p>
<p>“That is none of your concern either, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan declares, tilting his head smugly. “The clone troopers officially belong to the Jedi Order, and I can send them wherever I see fit.”</p>
<p>“Outrageous!” the Chancellor fumes, and the Senate starts to buzz with shocked whispers. “You can’t just take our army! The Republic is fighting in a war!”</p>
<p>“I don’t know why you are so surprised, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan gives a nonchalant half-shrug. “After all, I believe I have already explained my position considering the Order’s part in that war of yours.”</p>
<p>“And as we all know, your High Council <em>disagreed</em>,” the Chancellor reminds him acidly.</p>
<p>“Well, <em>I</em> am the High Council now,” Obi-Wan declares, standing tall and proud, despite the guilt that is still gnawing at him a little. It’s quickly washed away by a wave of Anakin’s childish pride though. </p>
<p><em>My Master is the greatest Jedi in the Galaxy!</em> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan has to suppress a smile.</p>
<p>“I have been chosen by my brothers and sisters to represent the Order and advise them on all matters in these dark times,” he states. “And I have advised them <em>not</em> to engage in your petty conflict any longer.”</p>
<p>A roar of voices, angry and scared, rises, resonating across the Senate Chamber, but Obi-Wan’s words thunder over it with ease.</p>
<p>“The Jedi Order is withdrawing its support of the Republic and is relocating all its assets from Coruscant.”</p>
<p>“Traitor! Renegade!” the Senators shout, and Obi-Wan laughs, carefree and genuinely, throwing his head back, his melodious laughter rippling through the Senate chamber.</p>
<p>
  <em>Always with the names.</em>
</p>
<p>But then, Anakin’s rage washes over Obi-Wan as it starts to spread in all directions, suffusing the waters of the Force with angry red, and Obi-Wan turns to him, stilling his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>, Anakin. Let them speak.”</p>
<p>“Who gave you the power to decide such matters, Master Kenobi?” the new Senator of Naboo yells. “Surely, the Jedi must be out of their minds!”</p>
<p>“They think their Temple is higher than the Republic!” the Chancellor chimes in with barely hidden glee. “They think they are better than us just because they pray to that Force of theirs day and night!”</p>
<p>The Senators cheer in agreement.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan catches Anakin’s expectant glance calling him to interfere but only shakes his head slightly.</p>
<p>
  <em>Let them say what they have to say.</em>
</p>
<p>“The Jedi have abandoned their own principles for the sake of the forbidden knowledge they seek,” the Chancellor continues more fervently now, inspired by the reaction. “They have declared themselves heroes and put themselves on pedestals.”</p>
<p>Another wave of approving shouts rolls through the Chamber.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan crosses his arms on his chest with a little amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.</p>
<p>“Long ago, they exchanged their own Holy City with its sacred shrines for their arrogance and pleasures of Coruscant!” The Chancellor’s posture is becoming more self-assured with every word he speaks. “Yet they still have the audacity to call themselves <em>spiritual beings</em>, all the while seeking worldly power just like any secular ruler.”</p>
<p>At that, some Senators even start to applaud.</p>
<p>“<em>Master!</em>” Anakin whispers hotly, clearly surprised and uncomprehending why the Jedi isn’t denying those outrageous accusations.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan just silently waves him off.</p>
<p>“They have been imprudent and shown blatant and contemptuous disregard for any authority,” the Chancellor goes on, his list of accusations seemingly endless.</p>
<p>“Higher than the Republic. Higher than its laws. Entitled to everything and accountable to no one,” he declares with feigned indignation, pointing his finger at Obi-Wan’s chest. “And now they have taken Master Kenobi – the one who has betrayed every single one of their beliefs and raised a <em>Sith</em> Padawan – and made him the Grand Master of their Order!”</p>
<p>Now that is quite enough. Amusing as it is to listen to this pompous prick’s grievances, Obi-Wan doesn’t think Anakin is taking it well. </p>
<p>He shouldn’t have brought him here. He is too hot-headed for politics, his poor, angry Padawan. But he wouldn’t even hear of leaving Obi-Wan’s side for a second, not after the attack on the Temple, so Obi-Wan had no other choice but to bring him to the session. And now, well...</p>
<p>“<em>A Sith Padawan?</em> Dear me!” Obi-Wan presses a palm to his chest, feigning hurt innocence again. “That is a very serious accusation to make, Chancellor. But <em>no doubt</em> you have proof of that.”</p>
<p>“Knight Skywalker killed Count Dooku on the Sith planet of Korriban while he was an unarmed prisoner,” the Chancellor answers readily, addressing the Senate again. “Everyone knows it’s <em>not</em> <em>the Jedi way</em>. What more proof do we need?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Ah, there it is. Gotcha! </em>
</p>
<p>And just who Obi-Wan thought it would be! The one with the most power yet hungry for it <em>still</em>. The one whose eyes have always been dark with greed and hunger when he looked at Obi-Wan, as though he could see the Light emanating from him in the Force and wanting its power for himself, but too afraid of his hands getting burned if he tried to handle it.</p>
<p>“Interesting...” Obi-Wan tilts his head. “And how exactly do you happen to know what transpired on Korriban? There was absolutely no way for you to obtain that information,” he pauses for effect. “Unless, of course, you were there too. <em>Darth Sidious</em>.”</p>
<p>The Chancellor’s face contorts with rage when he recognizes his mistake. A stupid, stupid slip up, brought about by the overconfidence Obi-Wan let him feel when he didn’t speak against him and allowed him to rant on and on, discrediting the Jedi Order – <em>personally</em> this time, without the help of his pawns, such as late Senator Amidala.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan rolls his eyes – it was almost too easy. Whatever happened to the great, dangerous Sith, the formidable arch enemies of the Jedi? Why are they so pathetic these days? Like a bunch of greedy, whiny children, stomping their feet and demanding candy for lunch.</p>
<p>Ventress, Dooku, Palpatine. Why are they all so obsessed with him, a mere, ordinary Jedi Master? Why do they wish to possess him so? Wouldn’t it have made more sense if they had tried to entice his Padawan instead? The one who is at least <em>a little bit</em> like them? And crazy powerful? And easily influenced on top of that? Yes, Anakin would make a perfect Sith apprentice and acolyte. Unlike Obi-Wan. So why him then?</p>
<p><em>Stupid Sith. </em>So blinded by their lust for power that they have chosen the shiny trinket of Obi-Wan Kenobi over the real Sith gold of Anakin Skywalker.<em> Idiots. </em>No wonder they are almost extinct.</p>
<p>And what does this one even have to say for himself before Obi-Wan arrests him in front of the entire Galaxy?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For a moment, there is complete silence in the Senate. Everyone’s eyes are on the Chancellor now, awaiting his explanation. His face contorts in a hateful grimace, but before he even opens his mouth to speak…</p>
<p>A crimson blade pierces his body, impaling him from behind and exiting through his chest with an angry hiss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A little anticlimactic, huh?</p>
<p>And <em>that</em> was the Sith mastermind behind a Galaxy-wide war?</p>
<p>Just another old fool who thought he could lock his Master up somewhere and control his Light, corrupting it and turning it into power for himself?</p>
<p>
  <em>Pathetic. </em>
</p>
<p>Anakin makes a face and turns off his <em>beautiful</em> new lightsaber gifted to him by his Master.</p>
<p>The Sith Lord’s body slumps to the floor.</p>
<p>A moment passes. Then another.</p>
<p>A heartbeat.</p>
<p>A long-suffering sigh.</p>
<p>And then, surely enough…</p>
<p>“What have you done, Anakin...” His Master shakes his head – the way he always does when Anakin’s reckless impatience wrecks his carefully constructed plans. Disappointed but not surprised. <em>Never surprised.</em></p>
<p>Anakin is silent under that sharp, disapproving gaze piercing and scolding him without words. </p>
<p>Yes, he did it again – killed without his Master’s order or permission. Out of anger. Out of jealousy. But he couldn’t just let another darksider steal his Master from him, could he? And Darth Sidious <em>would</em> try to steal him – because those who saw Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Light through the eyes of Darkness once can never look away. Anakin would know.</p>
<p>And he has no regrets about what he just did. But his Master’s displeased gaze is almost unbearable in its heavy intensity, so Anakin averts his face, looking to the side, his eyes bashfully downcast and the column of his neck vulnerably bared – offered to his Master as an apology in the primal sign of submission.</p>
<p>The Jedi doesn’t say anything – just rolls his eyes and turns to face the shocked silence of the Senate.</p>
<p>“Apologies, Senators. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but...” He steps over the Chancellor’s dead body with a disgusted expression which then quickly changes back into a tired but resigned one. “Looks like this is a coup now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have let your Republic be ruled by a Sith Lord, and now it has fallen. Since you cannot agree on <em>anything</em> between yourselves, the Jedi will be taking over,” Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order and the High Jedi General of the Clone Army announces in a steel-cold voice.</p>
<p>They are standing under the hundreds of stares directed at them. The whole Galaxy is watching, and all Anakin can think about is his Master’s blinding halo unfolding all around them in the Force, fluttering and vibrating with a strange sound – almost like <em>music</em>, like a jubilant melody hummed by thousands of voices.</p>
<p>The sight is both magnificent and terrifying, so Anakin almost feels sorry for the poor bastards all around them who cannot reach for the Force and see what he sees.</p>
<p>But even though they have no idea what is really going on around them, the Senators seem to be as much in awe before Obi-Wan Kenobi as Anakin always is. He can feel their emotions flooding the Force: fear mixed with excitement, hope diluted with uncertainty, and of course, admiration for the one whose voice speaks louder than all of theirs, never afraid to say what they won’t dare. </p>
<p>“No matter what you decide – to form alliances or to stay independent systems – you shall still answer to the Jedi Order.”</p>
<p>His Master’s words give Anakin goosebumps, making the little hairs on his nape bristle at the thrill of excitement.</p>
<p>An agitated murmur crawls through the rows of politicians in response too. And even though the Senators have just been virtually told that their reign is over, Anakin feels the waves of their approval starting to crash against the barrier of Darkness guarding his Master’s Signature. </p>
<p>And Anakin isn’t even surprised – it’s always like that: when the Negotiator speaks, everyone listens on the edge of their seat, with their mouths agape, hypnotized, as if hearing words for the first time in their lives. But this time it’s different. This time Anakin actually gets to see it – how the golden mist of his Master’s mesmerizing voice flows into their ears and pours out of their mouths in enthusiastic agreement, in praise, in words adoration.</p>
<p>Of course, they all love Obi-Wan Kenobi – they can’t help it, <em>the Force itself </em>commands it. But it doesn’t matter: Anakin has learned from his mistake on Jedha, and now his Darkness is always there, protecting his Master so that <em>nothing</em> could touch his serenity. And only <em>Anakin’s</em> love can actually lift its black lace veil and reach the Jedi’s Force Signature. Brush against it with a feather-light touch. Beg it not to push him away…</p>
<p>
  <em>Master, you don’t need their love when you have mine.</em>
</p>
<p>Concealed by his dark cowl, Anakin’s cheeks are burning, and he turns his head to the side, away from the constant flashes of floating holo-cameras, so that he could only see his Master’s sharply defined profile.</p>
<p>He is feeling feverish, as though he is high on his love for his Master, so it barely even registers in his dizzy mind what exactly the Jedi is saying to the Senators.</p>
<p>“Fear not,” even his reassurance is ice-cold, “the Order wants no part in your politics. You can govern in peace. We are relocating back to our Holy City and will not interfere unless invited to.”</p>
<p>The whole Senate seems to simultaneously let out their held breaths.</p>
<p>Anakin’s eyebrows crawl up in surprise.</p>
<p>“Master?” he whispers, not really comprehending what is going on.</p>
<p>“<em>However</em>,” his Master continues speaking, pointedly ignoring Anakin, “we will oversee your decisions and watch you closely through the Force, and if we find any sign of corruption, slavery or any injustice at all being done to your people,” the Jedi pauses for effect, looking the Senate over with a dark, chilling glare, “you will share the Chancellor’s fate.”</p>
<p>The outright threat rings in the dead silence of the Senate Chamber. Anakin’s skin crawls, and he thinks he might actually pass out from how all the blood in his body suddenly rushes south, leaving him completely lightheaded with arousal.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh…</em>” he gasps quietly, almost swaying on his feet, when wave after wave of his Master’s ruthless determination and inexplicable danger crashes against him in the Force.</p>
<p><em>Shh…</em> His Master’s quiet voice coos into Anakin’s ear over the cacophony of the Senators’ shocked gasps and exclamations.</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s too late to be afraid of me now, dear one.</em>
</p>
<p>A shiver runs down Anakin’s spine, making his entire body tremble as his irises light up with yellow flames all on their own.</p>
<p>
  <em>You really think your eyes can scare me, my stupid little Sith boy?</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin bites his lip, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, the barely hidden danger of his Master’s words making the liquid heat of his arousal pool low in his belly.</p>
<p>
  <em>Their red and gold is nothing but a reflection of the fire you see when you look at me. The fire that will burn you alive...</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin mewls pathetically, shaking his head again, trying to clear the fog of desire the words have left in it. </p>
<p>They aren’t even <em>real</em>. Of course not. It’s just his thirsty, lust-drunk mind playing dirty tricks on him: his Master isn’t actually speaking to him – he isn’t even looking at him as he continues to address the Senate, cold and merciless.</p>
<p>“The crime syndicates you used to have dealings with are being destroyed as we speak. The same fate awaits anyone who tries to stand in our way. And if you still think that my words are nothing but empty threats, go and see the freed planet of Tatooine for yourselves. As of yesterday, the Hutts are no more.”</p>
<p>A little smile tugs at Anakin’s lips as he remembers his own reaction when he found out what his Master’s “little detour” was about. </p>
<p>“If what you are saying is indeed true, Grand Master Kenobi, and you have apprehended the Hutts,” the Corellian Senator speaks up in wonder and disbelief, “then where are they? Where are all the prisoners? Why didn’t you bring them before the Republican Court for their trial?”</p>
<p>“Anakin, dear,” his Master suddenly turns around and addresses him, for real this time, pushing him a little forward, in front of everyone, “tell the Senators where all the prisoners are.”</p>
<p>Anakin swallows thickly. Still not good with words. He could never even imagine that <em>the Negotiator</em> would ever ask <em>him</em> to speak. Hell, up to this very moment, he has firmly believed that the only words he truly needs in his vocabulary are <em>yes</em> and <em>Master</em>.</p>
<p>“We do not take prisoners anymore,” Anakin says grimly at last, not even bothering to pull his hood off. “The Order’s army attacked the Hutt Space and wiped the blasted slavers out of existence. I killed the nasty slugs myself, and I enjoyed <em>every kriffing second</em> of it.”</p>
<p>The stunned silence that follows his words is so thick it seems to have captured the whole Senate and made them stuck like bugs in amber.</p>
<p>“That was very sweet, darling. Thank you.” His Master puts his hand on Anakin’s shoulder in a calming gesture, and only then Anakin realizes he is breathing harshly, shaking with obvious agitation in the dead silence of the shocked Senate.</p>
<p>“I think what my apprentice means, Senators,” the Jedi turns to the stunned politicians again, “is that there will be no more negotiations. No debates. No deals. No trials.”</p>
<p>Anakin gasps along with everyone else, watching with his mouth agape, as his Master calls his own lightsaber into one hand and Anakin’s into the other. </p>
<p>The two blades swoosh to life in his lowered hands, their crimson and cerulean spilling down from the hilts in the warning stance of Jar’Kai.</p>
<p>
  <em>I AM WAR!  </em>
</p>
<p>The Force thunders around the Jedi with deafening fanfares of screams and blaster shots, heralding the new name its favorite son has chosen for himself.</p>
<p>Anakin tumbles down to his knees with a strangled whimper, pressing his hands to his ears as he cowers before his Master’s terrifying halo – the distant glow of exploding ships and burning worlds.</p>
<p>The Jedi’s voice echoes across the Senate Chamber, every word shaking Anakin’s entire being, even though he isn’t the one they are addressed to.</p>
<p>“We are the New Order. Cross us – and be assured: we will end your reign and lay waste to everything you hold dear, and our lightsabers will be the last thing you see.”</p>
<p>And when his Master turns away from the terrified, speechless Senators to look at him, Anakin can’t think of anything better than to <em>beg</em>, staring up at him from where he is kneeling on the floor, still shaking from the visions of the future flashing before his eyes.</p>
<p>“Please, spare me, Master! Spare my life when you end the world! Don’t let me burn with the rest of them! I’ll be good, I’ll be good! I promise! Master, please, <em>please!</em>”</p>
<p>“The good little Sith knows his place…” A contented murmur falls off his Master’s lips as he sees his Padawan groveling at his feet, pleading with him for his life. “On his knees before a Jedi.”</p>
<p>He extinguishes his blades, but the face of his cold fury doesn’t soften even a little. </p>
<p>“It is too late to beg for mercy, little heir of the Dark Side.” The Jedi inclines his head, and when his hand comes to caress his cheek, Anakin mewls and shudders bodily under the tender touch, as though he was expecting to be shattered to dust instead. “Can’t you feel it? You are already on fire.”</p>
<p>Anakin’s eyes fly open as he stares up at his Master in terror, the tongues of the Jedi’s flame dancing reflected in his irises. </p>
<p>He is <em>terrified</em> of his Master, and he doesn’t know why. Perhaps, there is something uncanny in the way he tilts his head to the side. Or maybe it’s the way he is looking at him – without his infinite, all-forgiving kindness. Or it might be the way his Light is losing its warmth, its glow becoming whiter and colder with every passing moment.</p>
<p>“Master, you are not yourself,” Anakin whispers, eyes huge. “You are scaring me...”</p>
<p>“Oh, you poor, naïve child,” his Master coos, circling Anakin like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. “<em>Now</em> I am scaring you?”</p>
<p>The Jedi’s smile is outright feral.</p>
<p>“Not when I told you I could crush your soul under my foot?” </p>
<p>His hand slides from Anakin’s shoulder to his disheveled curls as the Jedi moves to stand behind his back. </p>
<p>“Not when I forced my Light down your throat until you almost drowned?” </p>
<p>His fingers tighten in a painful grip, forcing Anakin’s head back, until he looks at his Master upside down, his eyes huge. </p>
<p>“Not when I let my words bind and lash you like whips?”</p>
<p>The Jedi leans forward to whisper against the shell of Anakin’s ear, sending a wave of goosebumps all over his body.</p>
<p>“Out of all those times I manipulated and outright threatened to destroy you… <em>Now</em> you are scared?”</p>
<p>His Master lets go of his hair, and Anakin whimpers pathetically, ducking his head and trying to appear smaller.</p>
<p>“Oh, my sweet darling,” the Jedi says softly but somehow cruelly at the same time, coming to stand in front of Anakin again. “You have sacrificed your world to me. And judging by your reaction, you have gotten a glimpse of what I might do to it. And you are still not going to stop me?”</p>
<p>“No, Master,” Anakin whispers, looking up at the Jedi with huge, pleading eyes. “I’m <em>good</em>. I’m <em>loyal. </em>I’m <em>begging</em> you…”</p>
<p>“So you are willing to let the world burn just to please the Devil, the ancient story you have chosen to believe in?” The Jedi raises an eyebrow in cruel amusement.</p>
<p>“Yes!” Anakin doesn’t hesitate a moment. His red-rimmed eyes snap up to gaze imploringly at the Jedi from under his fluttering lashes. “Yes, Master. I’ll set it aflame myself if that’s what it takes to melt that glacier of serenity that covers your heart!”</p>
<p>Anakin doesn’t notice that he is crying until something hot and wet starts dripping onto his knees. He presses his hand to his own cheek and then stares at his wet fingers in wonder, as if it’s the first time he sees tears. He raises his head to ask the Devil what they mean.</p>
<p>“What is wrong with me, Master?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Anakin. What <em>is</em> wrong with you?” the Devil echoes, tilting his head, as if in contemplation. “Why are you talking to me if I’m not even there?”</p>
<p>“Wha–” Anakin blinks in astonishment, and when his eyes snap open again, all he sees is his Master still addressing the Senate and the people through the holo-cameras. </p>
<p>“Sentients of the Galaxy! Your old world is dead. It’s time to create a new one. From now on, the Jedi Order will be guarding your lives regardless of who or where you are. Poor or wealthy, the Inner Core or Wild Space – there will be no difference for our justice. The Force is omnipresent, so <em>nowhere</em> is out of our reach. The peace in the<em> entire </em>Galaxy is under our protection. If you are ever in need of the Order’s help, pray to the Force, and I will hear you.”</p>
<p>“At least someone will. <em>Kriffing finally!</em>” the young Senator of Utapau mutters in the ringing silence, and its thread snaps with deafening thunder of laughter and applause and cheer reverberating across the Senate Chamber.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anakin shakes his head. There truly must be something wrong with him if he can’t even tell the reality from visions anymore.</p>
<p>Or is it his Darkness just messing with his head again, trying to scare him into submission?</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>It wasn’t me, my stupid child.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Anakin can almost feel the Darkness roll its non-existent eyes and shake its metaphorical head in disappointment.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Why would I want to stop you from throwing this world at our beloved’s feet? No, it’s that Light of his.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The Darkness snarls.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>It’s trying to scare you off. It wants to get rid of us, Anakin! It doesn’t want us to take care of him! It won’t let us love him!</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The angry hiss makes Anakin’s skin crawl with goosebumps.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Don’t listen to it, Anakin! We </em>
  </strong>
  <strong>must <em>finish what we started and</em> <em>put our Master on the throne. Otherwise, he’ll throw us away. If we are not useful, he’ll throw us away!</em></strong>
</p>
<p>Now the Darkness is wailing like a hurt beast, thrashing around Anakin in panic, and Anakin wants to do exactly the same just at the thought that Master might not want them both around anymore.</p>
<p>
  <em>No, Master wouldn’t do that to us!</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin shakes his head in denial.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ve been a good little Sith for him, and you’ve been his good little Darkness. Master loves us. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>He </em>
  </strong>
  <strong>tolerates<em> us. There is a difference.</em></strong>
</p>
<p>The Darkness snaps at him, evidently out of patience.</p>
<p>
  <em>But… But…</em>
</p>
<p>Anakin’s lower lip starts quivering on the verge of hysteria.</p>
<p>
  <em>But if Master throws us away, we won’t be able to protect him. Who will be containing his Light? Who will be lulling his supernova to sleep?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>That’s just what the Light wants! It wants our Master to shine so brightly that he burns the very fabric of reality. Until there is nothing left but Light.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The Darkness roars, foaming and seething all around Anakin like boiling water.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>The sleemo! Let me go, Anakin! I’ll eat it!</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>And even though Anakin is scared and distressed out of his mind, he almost laughs aloud as he imagines his Master’s Light yelping when his Darkness chomps on it.</p>
<p>
  <em>No, we should be smarter than that.</em>
</p>
<p>He shakes his head at last.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>But we are not!</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The Darkness cackles, and Anakin barely refrains from sticking his tongue out at it.</p>
<p>They might still get what they desire after all. Anakin has a good feeling about it.</p>
<p>
  <em>Okay, new plan: shut up and go do what the Light does.</em>
</p>
<p>He tugs at the Darkness with his fingers, pulling a piece of it off himself like a spider’s web and throwing it towards the closest Senator – the ruler of Stewjon – and watches it slink into his ear.</p>
<p>“Force bless the new Jedi Order!” the Senator shouts immediately, and the others echo readily.</p>
<p>And Anakin’s Darkness howls triumphantly, spilling out of hundreds of mouths all around, speaking in billions of voices on thousands of worlds:</p>
<p>“Force bless Grand Master Kenobi, Lord Protector of the Galaxy!”</p>
<p>And Anakin watches through the Force how – near and far, in the Senate Chamber and on distant worlds – they all kneel before their new ruler, echoing the words Anakin’s lips are whispering as he bends the knee to his astonished Master.</p>
<p>“All hail Emperor Kenobi, the Voice of the Force! Long may he reign!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet you are very proud of yourself.”</p>
<p>“Master?”</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t play coy with me! I know what you and your Darkness did there, Anakin.” Obi-Wan throws an annoyed glare over his shoulder at the boy, who is almost jogging after his billowing cloak to keep up with his fast and angry pace. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize my own trick?”</p>
<p>The boy’s pace stutters, and he only mutters something unintelligible under his breath.</p>
<p>“You let your Darkness speak its will through them, and it made me <em>the ruler of everything</em> just like you’ve always dreamed. But this is <em>real</em>, Anakin.” Obi-Wan stops abruptly and whirls around to face the boy. “And how many times do I have to tell you? I never was that fairytale hero from your childhood fantasies. Nor god. Nor king...”</p>
<p>“You<em> are</em> <em>now</em>, Your Imperial Majesty.” The brat has the audacity to grin smugly as he bows, pleasure almost visibly radiating from him when he uses the title.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan fights the urge to roll his eyes.</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare call me that, <em>you menace,</em>” he grits out through his teeth, trying to cover up his strange and rather inappropriate amusement, but the little shit picks up on it anyway.</p>
<p>“Apologies, <em>My Lord</em>.” The boy bows even lower this time, looking up at Obi-Wan from under his trembling eyelashes, his pupils blown impossibly wide.</p>
<p>
  <em>The authority kink of this boy, honestly…</em>
</p>
<p>Perhaps, he should just grab his hair and push him down then – to his knees before his <em>Lord</em> and <em>Emperor</em>…</p>
<p>Obi-Wan shakes his head, derailing that dangerous train of thought.</p>
<p>“Oh, so you think this is funny, huh?” He crosses his arms and lifts an eyebrow instead. “You think that forcing my hand and pushing me to take the place Palpatine prepared for himself is funny?”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Master.” The boy’s eyes widen dramatically as he realizes that Obi-Wan is truly displeased with him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”</p>
<p>“Upset me?” It’s not even a question when Obi-Wan echoes it, closing his eyes and shaking his head. </p>
<p>What else was he expecting from the boy, really?</p>
<p>He shouldn’t be angry, but his patience has been tested too much today already, so...</p>
<p>“Dear Force! Do you even realize the <em>gravity</em> of what you just made me do, Anakin?” he snaps, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Can you imagine the consequences?”</p>
<p>“Stars, why am I even asking?” he mutters to himself, pressing his palm to his forehead tiredly, when he sees Anakin’s utterly lost expression. “Of course you don’t. Of course you can’t.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Master,” the boy offers readily.</p>
<p>He isn’t though. He never is. Obi-Wan knows <em>for a kriffing fact</em> that his Padawan has no idea what he has done today. Anakin Skywalker just <em>doesn’t know</em> right from wrong. He doesn’t know <em>anything</em> aside from what Obi-Wan tells him. </p>
<p>No inhibitions. No restraints. He only sees his objective and doesn’t notice any obstacles in his way to it. </p>
<p>
  <em>Force, how can he be like that? Why?</em>
</p>
<p>“I have just had to literally take over the Galaxy to keep you from being executed for the Chancellor’s murder and for being a Sith, Anakin!” Obi-Wan explains, his voice almost trembling with the amount of restraint it is taking him not to shout at his confused apprentice. Honestly, Obi-Wan would slap him right now, but...he looks like a kicked puppy as it is. </p>
<p>“But, Master… I thought you <em>wanted</em> revenge on the Sith who had almost destroyed the Order.” The boy’s eyes are looking ingratiatingly into Obi-Wan’s, searching and begging for forgiveness despite him not really knowing what his crime actually is.</p>
<p>“Yes, I went against the Code. I craved revenge. I wanted him to pay for what he did,” Obi-Wan admits with a long-suffering sigh, already knowing that his explanation won’t be of any use whatsoever. “But I was thinking in terms of arresting and imprisoning him – not <em>killing</em> him in front of the entire Galaxy.”</p>
<p>“Well, Sith Lord or not, he touched your wrist back at the gala, and I saw you didn’t like it, Master,” Anakin answers, lifting his chin defiantly, but crosses his arms in a subconscious defensive gesture, pouting like a child, “so he <em>had to</em> die, and <em>I don’t care!</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Ah, so that’s why!</em>
</p>
<p>Obi-Wan almost doubles over with laughter: Palpatine was the most powerful Sith Lord in history, who almost managed to conquer the entire Galaxy – and he died just because he <em>so carelessly</em> touched Obi-Wan Kenobi’s wrist. Oh, <em>the irony!</em></p>
<p>“Very<em> mature</em>, darling.” Obi-Wan manages to hide his rather unseemly amusement by rolling his eyes after all, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he addresses Anakin. “Your childish antics have made me start a kriffing revolution!”</p>
<p>Anakin draws back, startled by Obi-Wan’s displeased voice, as if it had indeed slapped him. </p>
<p>“So congratulations! I guess that stupid book of fairytales you love so much was right after all,” Obi-Wan continues mercilessly, spreading his arms and gesturing around them – to where the entire Jedi Temple is buzzing like a disturbed hive, preparing for the sudden departure. “Look, Padawan! I’ve almost started another war. I have destroyed thousands of years of laws and traditions. The old world is cracking under my feet – all of that just because you think you can act like a jealous, petulant child!”</p>
<p>“I just–” Anakin’s throat constricts with hurt. “I thought if I had given you the Galaxy, you would have–”</p>
<p>He chokes on a sob, fat tears running down his cheeks.</p>
<p>“I thought you would have finally loved me back, Master…”</p>
<p>“What?” Obi-Wan utters, looking absolutely baffled, stunned with shock, as though struggling to believe his own ears. </p>
<p>“Ani, darling…” Obi-Wan chokes out but falls silent again, his words refusing to obey him. “You can’t…<em>buy</em> love.”</p>
<p>“Then how do I get it, Master?” Now the boy looks perplexed too, frowning and batting his wet eyelashes.</p>
<p>“It’s…” Obi-Wan has to take a breath, which suddenly turns out shaky. “It’s given <em>freely</em>.”</p>
<p>“Then why don’t you wanna give it to <em>me</em>, Master?!” The boy is trying to sound calm, but ends up shouting anyway, his lower lip is already quivering with the oncoming hysteria.</p>
<p>“I <em>am</em> giving it to you, dear one,” Obi-Wan assures him, his voice soothing and his palms raised in a pacifying manner. “I’m giving you all of my attention and affection, but it’s never enough for you. Your thirst for me is never satisfied. Your hunger is a bottomless black hole, Anakin. You should understand–”</p>
<p>“No!” Anakin interrupts. “No, I don’t want to understand, Master!” </p>
<p>He actually stumps his foot like an angry, petulant child.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan sighs.</p>
<p>“And what <em>do</em> you want then, my Padawan?”</p>
<p>“What I want,” Anakin heaves, choking on his sobs, “is something I now know I can’t have.”</p>
<p>The boy clutches at his unruly curls in utter despair. He is trembling all over, weeping hysterically now.</p>
<p>“I’ll– I’ll kill– kill them all, Mah-aster. If I– can’t hah-ve your love, no– no one can!”</p>
<p>“Oh, for Force’s sake!” Obi-Wan is so fed up with it all he doesn’t think he can take another minute of it. He sighs and just waves his hand before the boy’s tearful face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan watches the Coruscant Temple get smaller and smaller in the viewpoint of <em>the Resolute</em>.  </p>
<p>His own flagship, <em>the Negotiator</em>, is still being loaded with the last remaining artifacts from the Temple’s Archives. It will be the last to leave for Jedha – the rest of the former GAR’s fleet has already departed. So in just a few hours– </p>
<p>“My Lord Emperor?” Commander Cody clears his throat politely to draw his attention. “You have asked for my presence.”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan sighs at the title, closing his eyes for a moment. Behind him, Anakin giggles happily, squeezing his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist one more time before tangling his fingers into his hair and ruffling his already artfully tousled auburn locks into a real mess.</p>
<p>“Yes, Commander.” Obi-Wan turns his head to the clone and immediately notices his discomfort. “Is something the matter?”</p>
<p>“Ugh…” Commander Cody bashfully averts his gaze from where Anakin is standing, his hands playing with Obi-Wan’s hair and his gaze full of strange excitement as he sticks the tip of his tongue out in concentration, completely consumed by his task and seemingly lost to the world. “Is Commander Skywalker alright, sir?”  </p>
<p>“No, he is getting worse,” Obi-Wan waves his hand nonchalantly, causing the clone’s eyebrows to shoot up.</p>
<p>“He seems…” Commander Cody pauses awkwardly, still not daring to look up and, evidently, searching for the right words. “He is being…weirdly affectionate, sir.”</p>
<p>“Well,” smiling wryly, Obi-Wan lifts his hand and reaches behind his head to try and untangle Anakin’s fingers from his hair as he explains to the clone, “he insisted on acting like a spoiled child, so I may have used Force suggestion to convince him he really <em>is</em> one. In a way.”</p>
<p>Anakin gives a little whimper of protest, not willing to let go of Obi-Wan’s locks, and Commander Cody’s eyes go almost round with astonishment. </p>
<p>“Don’t mind him, Commander,” Obi-Wan waves him off again. “He is completely aware of what is happening – he is just unable to drop his childish act. <em>Nothing new</em>, actually.”</p>
<p>He chuckles humorlessly, slightly turning his head to the side, and even though he continues to speak to the Clone Commander, his next words are very pointedly addressed to his Padawan, “But Anakin is learning his lesson, and I hope he’ll finally see how <em>ridiculous</em> he is being when behaving in such a way.”</p>
<p>At that, Anakin frowns and pouts. <em>Childishly.</em></p>
<p>“Uh...” The clone’s face is absolutely perplexed now, despite all his efforts to keep it carefully neutral.</p>
<p>“How–” He clears his throat, now openly staring at Anakin. Even though he is not Force-sensitive, he can probably <em>feel</em> it with his skin – the boy’s absolute <em>mortification</em> at being seen in his current state. “How old is he, sir?”</p>
<p>“About three at this point, I’d say.” Obi-Wan smiles softly, humor now glinting in his eyes, as he observes Anakin’s struggle between embarrassment and stubborn unwillingness to change his behavior. “He is a very clingy toddler. And I think he is fascinated with my hair for some reason.”</p>
<p>“Well,” Commander Cody has to actually bite his lip not to giggle, “he seems to like <em>all of you</em> very much, sir.”</p>
<p>“He does, doesn’t he?” Obi-Wan huffs out a laugh.</p>
<p>That immediately draws Anakin’s attention.</p>
<p>He finally lets go of Obi-Wan’s hair and steps from behind his back to look at his smiling face in his transfixed daze, eyes huge and full of wonder and...</p>
<p>“<em>Dar'jetii!</em>” </p>
<p>Having finally taken a proper look at him, Commander Cody gasps, staggering back in horror and grabbing his blaster. </p>
<p>“General, <em>his eyes!</em>” the clone exclaims, having forgotten the proper way to address Obi-Wan out of shock. “They are yellow!”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan lets out a tired sigh. With a casual wave of his hand, the blaster jumps out of the Commander’s grip and flies across the room to land on the floor with a loud clunk.</p>
<p>“He’s a Sith!” The clone keeps pointing an accusing finger at Anakin’s chest. “He is dangerous! <em>Sir!</em>”</p>
<p>“Calm down, Commander.” Obi-Wan raises his palm in a peaceful gesture. “I assure you Anakin is entirely harmless.”</p>
<p>The Clone Commander doesn’t look convinced in the slightest. </p>
<p>“To me, anyway.” Obi-Wan chuckles. “I’ve been told he was actually <em>made </em>to adore me.”</p>
<p>“He is a Sith, and he is still able to love you, sir?” The clone’s eyebrows crawl further and further up in amazement.</p>
<p>“That’s his most terrifying feature, yes.” Obi-Wan nods, smiling as Anakin looks up at him, stars in his eyes, and grabs his hand with his palms, holding it like some treasure. </p>
<p>“But, <em>My Lord</em>–” Commander Cody is still staring at the both of them with a horrified expression. “Commander Skywalker is volatile. What if he hurts you?”</p>
<p>“Hurts me?” At that Obi-Wan outright laughs, throwing his head back. “I don’t think he even <em>comprehends</em> the concept, Commander.”</p>
<p>The clone just stares at him, unbelieving, and clearly doubting that Obi-Wan himself is even sane at all.</p>
<p>“It just doesn’t register in his brain,” Obi-Wan explains simply. “Look!”</p>
<p>He waves a hand in front of Anakin’s face.</p>
<p>“Sweetheart, I want you to push me.”</p>
<p>“Master?” Anakin stares at him, his gaze empty.</p>
<p>“Push me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeats under Commander Cody’s astonished gaze.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I don’t understand you, Master.” Anakin just keeps staring, eyes wide with confusion.</p>
<p>“It’s very simple, honey,” Obi-Wan explains with a patient smile, “just grab me and push me away.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I don’t understand the language you are speaking, Master. Could you translate that for me, please?”</p>
<p>Anakin’s eyes are glassy, staring into nothingness; one can almost see the <em>critical</em> <em>error</em> alert blinking in his mind.</p>
<p>“Alright, now you’ve broken him, sir.” The clone shakes his head with a giggle, and Obi-Wan grins toothily, a strange glint in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh, Commander, you have no idea.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ship shakes as it jumps to hyperspace, and Emperor Kenobi seems to remember the actual reason he asked for Cody’s presence in the first place.</p>
<p>“Commander, I just wanted you to know,” he starts, still looking at his <em>cyar'ika</em> – his <em>darling</em> Padawan – completely taken with him and caressing his cheek with chest-tightening fondness, “as soon as we arrive on Jedha, I am going to announce that the clones are no longer slaves to anyone’s will.”</p>
<p>“But, My Lord…” Cody seems to have entirely lost his ability to speak. “<em>Sir</em>, the clones were made to serve the Republic.”</p>
<p>“No.” Kenobi shakes his head. “They were made to assist the Jedi Order. And as the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, I’m offering my sincerest apologies for that and setting you free.” </p>
<p>The Jedi gives Cody a gracious smile, “You can leave if you want. Or you can stay and keep serving in our army. And those who desire peaceful life will be offered jobs at our relief centers all over the Galaxy.”</p>
<p>“General, sir–” Cody’s throat visibly constricts with emotion, and he slips back to the Jedi’s former title again.</p>
<p>Kenobi smiles. </p>
<p>“Relax, Commander. There is no need for you to say anything. Not to me anyway.” He turns to leave, pulling Skywalker along by his hand. “Better go and talk to your brothers.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Cody nods curtly, putting his helmet on to cover up the joyful astonishment written all over his face. </p>
<p>He turns to leave too, but his comm bursts to life with an urgent voice.</p>
<p>Cody sighs and calls after the Jedi, “You Majesty! There’s been a complication on Coruscant.”</p>
<p>“But of course.” The Jedi turns around to face him and inclines his head slightly, looking not perturbed or even surprised in the slightest. </p>
<p>“Sir,” Cody starts to report, trying not to show his confusion. After all, he shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point, “the Senators who used to support Chancellor Palpatine have gathered in the Senate building, reportedly meeting with the leaders of the Separatists.”</p>
<p>“So?” Kenobi raises an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“Sir, I think they are plotting a power grab,” Cody explains, still unable to stop silently wondering why the new Emperor does not look at all bothered by the news. “They have demanded the presence of the Negotiator. Alone.”</p>
<p>The Jedi only hums something unintelligible, too busy trying to free himself from his Padawan’s clingy embrace. </p>
<p>“Are you going to respond, sir?” Cody finally asks, having received no clear answer.</p>
<p>“Indeed, Commander.” The Jedi nods with a strange, unreadable expression on his face. “If they want <em>the Negotiator</em> to respond, that is exactly what the Negotiator should do, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Sir?” Cody frowns, remembering Skywalker’s warning. </p>
<p>Is the General going to do something reckless and dangerous? Is he really going to meet with the Seps all by himself?</p>
<p>And is it just him, or has Kenobi’s smile just turned feral for a second? </p>
<p>“Contact my flagship if it’s still on Coruscant, Commander,” the Jedi says sharply. “Transmit my order.”</p>
<p>“Right away, sir,” Cody replies, already opening the comlink channel and waiting for the response.</p>
<p>Skywalker whispers something into Kenobi’s ear, childishly covering his mouth with his palm, and the Jedi laughs softly.</p>
<p>“Yes, darling,<em> of course</em> we can go play with your little green friend in the creche cabin now.” </p>
<p>The new Emperor turns around, heading to the door again, the excited Skywalker boy in tow.</p>
<p>“And the order, sir?” Cody calls after him again. “What should I tell <em>the Negotiator </em>to do?”</p>
<p>Having paused in the door frame for a moment, the Jedi doesn’t even turn around as he orders, steel in his voice:</p>
<p>“Fire on the Senate building.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TRIGGER WARNING!<br/>This chapter is pretty trippy in general and also contains mentions of Anakin being in a kinda sorta weird state of mind causing him to act like a child. And even though he is completely aware, and nothing even remotely inappropriate happens while he is like that, if it still bothers you – please skip the last part of the chapter after the words “You have asked for my presence.”</p>
<p>And, all in all, if you haven’t noticed yet, nothing healthy is happening in this fic, so… Proceed with caution.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A/N:</p>
<p>Literally translated from Mando<em>'</em>a, <em>dar'jetii</em> means “no longer a Jedi”, and is mostly used contextually to mean "Sith.”</p>
<p><em>Cyar</em>'<em>ika</em> in Mando<em>'</em>a means “darling, beloved, sweetheart.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Also, it’s been brought to my attention that I might need a better summary for this story. Please let me know what you guys think. I’m open to any ideas by this point ‘cause I totally suck at summaries, lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. A New Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>It’s been almost eleven months since they relocated to NiJedha, but the huge Council Chamber of their new Temple still only has one seat. </p><p>At some point, Master asked Anakin to arrange for more chairs to be brought in for those who might wish to sit on the new High Council, and, of course, Anakin, being the good, obedient Padawan that he is, immediately – <em> gladly </em> – did nothing. </p><p>It’s been almost eleven months, but his Master still hasn’t noticed, too busy keeping peace in the Galaxy by waging a war against any injustice, just like he promised back in the Senate chamber.</p><p>The Force is speaking to him, and he is listening to its voice day and night – <em> lost </em> to the real world – his lips moving in a string of names and coordinates. Every one of them is a death sentence. A slaver, a crime lord, a tyrant, a corrupt politician – their names fall from the Emperor’s lips in the hall of glowing white marble, and then…they die. </p><p>His Master will offer Anakin his hand, and Anakin will take it, stepping with him through the doors of the Force and onto other worlds, their blades ablaze…</p><p>No use to beg for forgiveness. No second chances for those who hurt others for money or pleasure. Death is the new mercy of the Jedi. And the world is trembling before them, dreading to draw the attention of the Emperor’s cold blue eyes even more than they fear the fiery gold of the Sith.</p><p><em> Jetiise a’den. </em> </p><p>That’s what the clones call Obi-Wan Kenobi now in their slightly altered Mandalorian war chant.</p><p>
  <em> The Jedi’s wrath. </em>
</p><p>That’s how they sing of him, the one who freed them, calling themselves the pitiless face of his justice. Because if there is someone who wishes to start a war or even a small local conflict, well… The Jedi have been trained to fight as an army now, and the clones have mostly chosen to remain soldiers, so if the Emperor sighs, tiredly pressing a palm to his face, Generals Cody and Rex only nod curtly, and in a couple of hours a few fleets are already departing from Jedha to bring either peace or the complete annihilation of the aggressor.</p><p>Royal palaces and military bases are burning in the background of every holo-video featuring rows of men in painted plastoid armor and hundreds of swirling and slashing blades of blue and green in the hands of Jedi Knights, their steady hum accompanied by the joyful cheering of the saved and liberated people.</p><p>
  <em> Behave, or the Jedi will come for you. </em>
</p><p>That’s what parents tell their unruly children now.</p><p>
  <em> Behave, or you will know the justice of the Jedi. </em>
</p><p>That’s the message Jedha is transmitting to the entire Galaxy.</p><p>And hundreds of thousands of pilgrims come to see her ancient shrines and her returned people. Hundreds of thousands of voices blend with each other as they say, “Force bless the Jedi Order and Emperor Kenobi, the Bringer of Peace!”</p><p>
  <em> Force bless… </em>
</p><p>Anakin is almost ready to cry, cursing his own stupidity, as he listens to the endless chorus of voices calling his Master’s name in the Force. </p><p>It’s all his own doing, of course. It’s because of <em> him </em> that the whole Galaxy is getting all of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s attention, leaving nothing to Anakin himself. And, of course, the grateful Galaxy gives the Jedi its love in return. The love that’s challenging Anakin’s own.</p><p>Because of that love, the bleeding sun of his Master’s halo is shining and spreading – bright and terrifying – even though Anakin is doing everything he can to calm it down. And at times, he even fears that one day his Darkness won’t be enough anymore to contain it. He is also starting to suspect that the only reason he himself still isn’t swept away by his Master’s storm is because he is in the very eye of it. And, of course, he pretends like it doesn’t scare him even a little when his Master opens his mouth – and thousands of voices speak, whispering and screaming in hundreds of languages. That’s just the Force working in its mysterious ways. Nothing to worry about. Not creepy at all. <em> Not at all </em>...</p><p>Be careful what you wish for because you might actually get it. Anakin knows it now – now that his Master finally <em> actually </em> needs him. For the last month, he has constantly been in a deep meditative state, monitoring the Force for disturbances. His eyes are open but unseeing, looking somewhere into the depth of the universe, far, far away. Wandering through the Force, he is lost and disoriented in reality. He is literally helpless without his Padawan. </p><p>And at first, Anakin even likes it, because his Master doesn’t notice how the coarseweave of his robes turns into brocade and shimmersilk when Anakin’s hands wrap it around his shoulders. </p><p>He doesn’t see how people bow lower and lower to him, not even daring to raise their eyes, when Anakin leads him through the Temple, supporting his hand with his forearm. </p><p>He doesn’t hear how they address him as <em>Lord Emperor</em> and <em>Your Blessed Majesty</em> instead of the usual <em>Master</em> <em>Kenobi</em>, leaving Anakin to answer their questions for him.</p><p>“Ani, darling…” In his lucid moments, his Master calls for him, reaching out to caress his cheek or ruffle his hair, and Anakin catches his hand, pressing his lips to his palm and knuckles in reverent kisses.</p><p>“I’m here, Master…”</p><p>But his Master’s gaze is already far away again, looking past him with bleary eyes, and Anakin wants to scream.</p><p>
  <em> I’m here, Master! Look at me! Look at me! </em>
</p><p>But the Jedi doesn’t look at Anakin.</p><p>He doesn’t even <em> know </em> Anakin. </p><p>He doesn’t know who or where he himself is anymore.</p><p>He doesn’t remember he needs to eat. </p><p>He doesn’t actually sleep – he can just lie there, on his luxurious bed, staring into nothingness for hours and hours, without actually getting any rest. And every night, Anakin has to <em> swaddle </em> him into layers and layers of Darkness, until it’s finally enough to disrupt his connection with the Light Side and let him fall asleep. </p><p>And Anakin just lies beside his Master all night, his arm draped around his waistline and his head resting on his abdomen, while he pours his power into him, weeping silently.</p><p>
  <em> Master, what have I done... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“My Emperor?” Anakin lowers himself on one knee before the throne he has created for his Master.</p><p>Made out of crystallized Darkness, it looks carved from that obsidian rock Anakin usually sees in his mind landscape in the Force. The sharp edges of its backrest are pointing up, getting taller and taller towards the center, almost reaching the high, arched ceiling of the former Council chamber and giving the impression that their glowing blackness is cascading down from it among the snow-white marble walls to create the most magnificent seat worthy of the man currently sitting on it. </p><p>“Master? Can you hear me? It’s been days since you last spoke.” </p><p>Anakin’s eyes slowly trace the soft, shimmering lines of silk and chiffon draped over his Master’s unmoving body in a distant resemblance of the Jedi robes. Their white and silver skirts are tumbling down the steps before Anakin like a wave of a frozen waterfall – in such a stark contrast with the Dark throne that the Jedi’s figure sitting on it seems <em> glowing </em>, radiating cold white Light.</p><p>No answer.</p><p>“Master, I–” Anakin clears his throat, swallowing the tears that have suddenly tightened it. “I’ve brought the baby.”</p><p>That’s what his Master ordered him to do last time he spoke in Basic and not in kriffing garbled gibberish.</p><p>He said a moisture farming couple from Tatooine was praying to the Order to come and get “the Jedi baby” they had found on their doorstep with nothing but a blanket with an embroidered L on it and a green lightsaber.</p><p>“It’s a human boy, Master,” Anakin forces himself to speak, pretending like the Jedi can actually hear him. “Do you want to give him a name?” Anakin asks with tingling anticipation, knowing full well how <em> enticing </em> the idea would be for the Jedi – his Maser <em> loves </em> giving names to things after all. But Anakin’s sparkling excitement is almost immediately washed away: the offer, however tempting, doesn’t make his Master reemerge from the Force.</p><p>So Anakin just keeps talking, babbling on and on to distract himself from the sinking feeling in his heart.</p><p>“Everyone is calling him Lost Prince so far. That’s what they say the L must stand for,” he explains, a hint of amusement in his voice.</p><p>“I don’t know why <em> Prince </em> though. Could be because of how much you ordered me to pay that family for him,” Anakin muses.</p><p>“They all think he’s <em> yours </em> , Master. Can you believe it?” He snorts. There is <em> no kriffing way </em> the boy is the Emperor’s son. And that is the <em> only </em> reason the little womp rat is still alive and not strangled in his crib by Anakin’s merciless hand.</p><p>
  <em> No one gets to have his Master’s affection but him! No one! </em>
</p><p>“He doesn’t even look like you, Master,” Anakin keeps talking, chuckling darkly. “If anything, he looks more like me, actually.”</p><p><em> A powerful symbol for the New Jedi Order </em> , his Master called him. <em> A new hope. </em></p><p>Anakin’s chuckle fades, turning into a scowl: the suspicion that Master might want to replace him with that child as his new Padawan clenches Anakin’s heart again, even tighter this time, but he shakes his head and forces himself to <em> kriffing chill </em>.</p><p>Surely, it is too insane even for him to be jealous of some stupid baby. After all, he can always take the little shit back to Tatooine and just leave him in the middle of its Sith forsaken desert, at the non-existent mercy of the binary suns.</p><p>
  <em> Little Prince. </em>
</p><p>However cute he is, Anakin will <em> not </em> let the Emperor play house with him.</p><p>No kriffing way.</p><p><em> Right. </em> Back to more important business then: one way or another, he needs to break his Master’s trance. And if nothing else, perhaps, this will help.</p><p>“<em> Your Majesty </em> , I have also brought your <em> crown </em>.”</p><p>Anakin reverently lifts the gift of the Dark Side with both hands, offering it to his Master once more.</p><p>The thing has all the potential to annoy the Jedi enough to break his meditative state.</p><p>Or, maybe, this time he will accept it? </p><p>The heir of the Light Side, crowned with Darkness. How beautiful it would be! How <em>awfully</em> <em>poetic</em>...</p><p>But a moment passes, then another – and the spark of warmth still doesn’t return to the Jedi’s eyes. They keep staring through Anakin – empty and only glimmering with the cold glow of distant nebulas.</p><p>
  <em> Where did you go, Master? Come back to me! </em>
</p><p>Anakin clenches the crown in his hands until his fingers bleed, cut by the sharp-edged spikes. He could put it on his Master’s head now, like he’s always wanted – just like he put him on that throne while he was too deep in his transfixed state to protest or even notice, trusting Anakin to take care of him.</p><p>And that’s exactly what Anakin has been doing these past few months – taking care of his Master’s every need. Never leaving his side. Quite literally holding his hand through all of this. And yes, maybe he has abused his position here and there to make his almost catatonic Master look like a real Emperor, taking a little too much pleasure in putting all those beautiful, luxurious garments on him. So what? </p><p>Their finest silk is the only thing deserving to touch the silk of his Master’s skin. And those intricate golden bracelets look <em> heavenly </em> as Anakin pushes them every morning – one by one – up his Master’s hands to jingle softly around his wrists. And the rings… <em> Oh, the rings! </em></p><p>Diamonds and sapphires, glittering with his Master’s reflected Light like a constellation scattered over those long, delicate fingers.</p><p>Just a couple of days ago, Anakin could barely restrain himself from pressing his lips to them all the time. But now it all suddenly feels like he is dressing up a doll – a lifeless shell, an empty vessel – beautiful but not real.</p><p>How could he possibly get so sucked into his own imaginary world that he didn’t even realize that earlier? <em> How? </em></p><p>Anakin draws back in terror, the crown falling out of his hands and rolling away to the center of the chamber with a resounding metallic clank against the marble floor.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin breathes through his looming panic and swears under his breath, his eyes following the trail of the red blood drops the crown has left on the pristine whiteness.</p><p>He moves to pick it up.</p><p>What is he supposed to do now?</p><p>What if his Master has submerged into the waters of the Force so deep that they have washed him away?</p><p>Anakin turns to the motionless figure on the throne with a sinking heart.</p><p>It’s all his fault. If it hadn’t been for him–</p><p><em> “If it hadn’t been for you, he would be just a Jedi now </em> – <em> not the Emperor with the weight of the entire Galaxy on his shoulders. And he would be happy.” </em></p><p>A familiar voice echoes through the chamber, and Anakin’s eyes dart to his Master’s face, but the Jedi’s lips are not moving. He still looks frozen on his throne of Darkness. </p><p>“Master?” Anakin whispers anyway, even though he is pretty sure it was just his guilty conscience talking to him. “Is it you? Can you hear me? It’s me, your Little Ani.”</p><p>
  <em> “Hello there, Little Ani.” </em>
</p><p>The Jedi’s lips part just slightly, spilling out a swarm of glittering golden particles. </p><p>Their veil suddenly clouds Anakin’s sight, swirling and dancing in intricate patterns, until it forms a barely there, shimmering silhouette of a...<em> dragon </em>?! </p><p>Anakin yelps with surprise and staggers back, watching the outlines of big, leathery wings spreading above his Master’s still figure with a soft flap.</p><p>Wow! It really<em> is </em> a dragon! <em> A kriffing dragon! </em></p><p>But not the kind of Krayt dragons like those one might have the misfortune of finding on Tatooine. No. This one is a magnificent creature, straight out of fairytale books (Anakin would know), almost entirely transparent and seemingly only consisting of starlight reflecting on its metallic scales.</p><p>It’s like a glimmering mirage, a gauze of golden dust, a sun-lit haze of tiny water droplets.</p><p>
  <em> A dragon! </em>
</p><p>Anakin’s mind is stuck on this single thought flashing through it over and over again. And he is staring, staring, frozen in place, his eyes widening dramatically with astonishment and disbelief.</p><p>A dragon! A dragon!</p><p>A dra–</p><p><em> “Calm yourself!” </em> his Master’s thundering voice orders Anakin, flowing out of the dragon’s jaws with a strange hissing overtone. <em> “I’m just taking the form of something you can comprehend.” </em></p><p>“A dragon!” Anakin exclaims out loud in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice.</p><p>He is not entirely prepared to comprehend <em> that. </em> Not at all. <em> Not at all. </em></p><p>The mirage shifts, gleaming around the motionless figure of Anakin’s Master on the throne.</p><p>
  <em> “I am just how you imagine me to be.” </em>
</p><p>The golden particles forming the dragon’s silhouette jingle softly against each other as it descends the marble steps from the throne to where Anakin is standing, staring up with shocked, unblinking eyes.</p><p>
  <em> “I am the Light.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh! </em>
</p><p>Thunderstruck and shuddering slightly in a mixture of awe and fascination, Anakin doesn’t find anything better than to say, his voice small, “I am Anakin Skywalker.”</p><p>He doubles over in a reverent bow despite himself. It’s his Master’s Side of the Force talking to him after all! <em> An honor… </em></p><p><em> “Oh, I know who you are. We have even met personally once before. Don’t you remember? At the Senate session.” </em> The dragon emits a strange sound – something like laughter. <em> “You are Obi-Wan’s human.” </em> The dragon is slithering through the air now, circling Anakin’s frozen figure like prey, and Anakin feels so tiny, so insignificant, almost <em> non-existent </em> before it. <em> “You are the one who wants to smother him with your Darkness.” </em></p><p>“No, I– I never–” Anakin sputters in the same embarrassingly high-pitched tone again, eyes huge with horror, but the dragon snaps its teeth right in front of his face, rendering him entirely speechless before he has the chance to explain himself.</p><p><em> “Silly little heir of Darkness,” </em> it hisses. <em> “Who do you think you are to even imagine you could have my child’s affection? A puny human. Millions of years of evolution – and you are still inferior beings only good enough to mindlessly worship him, painting him on your walls with glowing halos around his head. Without hope to ever truly comprehend what he is.” </em></p><p>Anakin can only stare, his mouth agape, shifting his gaze from the dragon to his Master’s unmoving figure, all wrapped in white and completely <em> ethereal </em> against the blackness of the throne.</p><p>So it <em> is </em>true then. Just like he thought. Obi-Wan Kenobi is not human. He never was. </p><p>But what is he then? An ancient creature born of the Force itself? The Light poured into a human vessel? Pure energy wrapped in mortal flesh?</p><p>Even though Anakin is acutely aware that his visions are getting stranger and stranger every time, the concept of the Force manifesting itself in a perceivable form, however astonishing, is not entirely unheard of. Anakin remembers reading about it once. There even is a mural in the Lothar Jedi Temple. It depicts these…<em> beings </em>. Of Light and Darkness. The Daughter and the Son, presenting both Sides of the Force in human forms. Is that what Obi-Wan Kenobi is too?</p><p>As if having heard Anakin’s musings, the dragon rumbles in clear contempt, <em> “He is </em> everything <em> , and you are </em> nothing <em> before him.” </em></p><p>Not much of an explanation, although…<em>very</em> <em>true.</em></p><p>“I <em> am </em> nothing.” Anakin bows his head in deferent agreement, barely restraining himself from adding <em> sir </em>. “I don’t deserve him.”</p><p><em> “And yet he chooses you.” </em> The dragon sighs, and its voice is bitter when it speaks, <em> “So many fates, so many lives – and he always chooses </em> you <em> .” </em></p><p>It sounds like an accusation, and Anakin even feels a pang of guilt for a second there, before his overwhelmed mind finally comprehends the true meaning of the dragon’s words.</p><p>His Master chooses him in every reincarnation? Chooses <em> him </em> over the destinies the Light Side intends for him?</p><p>
  <em> Impossible… </em>
</p><p>Having noticed Anakin’s stunned expression, the dragon mercifully decides to elaborate, just a little, <em> “Whenever he decides to forget and start over, a child is born on a distant world. Screaming for his attention. Begging for his love. And he comes running to find you – an offering of the Dark Side, a tribute to his another rebirth.” </em></p><p>Anakin can’t utter a sound – only listen, his mouth agape and eyes round with astonishment.</p><p>He was <em> made </em> for his Master? Created with the sole purpose of being a gift for him? Of being <em> perfect </em> for him? Of bringing him joy?</p><p>Oh.</p><p>
  <em> Oh! </em>
</p><p>The exhilarating thought must be written all over his face because the dragon huffs in irritation, and when it speaks, its reverberating, mesmerizing voice is full of sadness.</p><p>
  <em> “He chooses you, every time, but in the end, you never give him anything but sorrow.” </em>
</p><p>The words sting like blaster bolts, piercing Anakin’s very being.</p><p><em> No! NO! Lies! I’m good for him! I </em> can <em> make him happy! </em></p><p>He wants to scream in pain, but instead, he shouts in rage, “You are wrong! I’ve given him everything! I’ve made the whole world grovel before him!”</p><p>The dragon shakes its head, completely unimpressed by Anakin’s angry outburst, <em> “That is not the destiny the Light Side intended for him.” </em></p><p>“Yeah, you wanted to make a <em> martyr </em> out of him!” Anakin spits out, all his fear and deference forgotten. <em> “I </em> made him the <em> ruler </em>of the entire Galaxy!”</p><p><em> “You have infected him with revenge. The curse of the Sith,” </em> the dragon hisses with clear disgust. <em> “Your Darkness could have saved the Council and the other Jedi that day on Coruscant, but it chose not to.” </em></p><p>“And where were <em> you </em> when Master was praying for you to save his brothers and sisters?” Anakin parries, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury, as he points his accusing finger at the dragon’s shimmering scaled chest. “It was <em> you </em> who didn’t protect the Jedi. He blames <em> you </em>.”</p><p>The dragon doesn’t answer that. Instead, it throws another accusation at Anakin.</p><p><em> “You have pushed him to this fate.” </em> A sharp claw points to the motionless figure on the Dark throne. <em> “Without a second though, simply on a whim, you have taken his choices away and made him become what he had always refused to be.” </em></p><p>The words wash over Anakin like a freezing cold shower.</p><p>He never once thought of it that way. Never understood why his Master’s words sounded so hurt and angry that day on Coruscant.</p><p>
  <em> You think that forcing my hand and pushing me to take the place Palpatine prepared for himself is funny? </em>
</p><p>Anakin shudders, finally having grasped the implications of what he did – of what he has been doing all this time, dressing his Master up like a doll and making him play the Emperor.</p><p>The dragon rumbles, visibly satisfied with the effect his reprimand has had on Anakin.</p><p>
  <em> “Yes, little Sith boy, he should have punished you much more than he did. You have obviously learned nothing from the humiliation of that day.” </em>
</p><p>Anakin’s cheeks flush, two crimson blotches instantly tinging them, as though the dragon’s words have scraped the skin.</p><p><em> “Obi-Wan didn’t want to wield the torch. And look – now he </em> is <em> the torch. He is the fire that will burn your world. All </em> because of you. <em> ” </em></p><p>“That’s not true!” Anakin insists vehemently again, having broken out of his terrified stupor, shaking his head in denial and clenching his fists at his sides, his left palm bleeding around the sharp edges of the Dark crown.</p><p><em> “Isn’t it?” </em> The dragon inclines its head, watching the droplets of Anakin’s blood dripping onto the white marble like a scattering of rubies.</p><p><em> “First, you thought he was an angel...” </em>The dragon’s voice sounds tired, echoing through the chamber, and, for a moment, Anakin’s vision is suddenly blinded by a flash of white light, which then parts to let a dark silhouette with an illusion of wings folded under a simple brown cloak step out of nowhere and into the throne room.</p><p>A younger version of Anakin’s Master smiles at him, his gentle voice speaking, as if from far away, “Hello there!” </p><p>“Master?” Anakin whispers with his lips only, wide-eyed with astonishment.</p><p><em> “You called him your savior,” </em>the dragon continues, its voice dripping with disapproval, and another figure – another Obi-Wan Kenobi – steps out from behind its back, holding out a hand and offering it to a baffled Anakin.</p><p>“Will you come to the Temple with me?”</p><p><em> “You enchanted him,” </em> the dragon accuses, its tail lashing and its jaws clicking, as though it can barely restrain itself from biting Anakin’s head off, <em> “made him want to be your teacher.” </em></p><p>“You will be a Jedi,” the third Obi-Wan Kenobi promises Anakin, having appeared out of thin air at his side and squeezing his shoulder slightly in reassurance. Just like all those years ago.</p><p>Anakin feels dizzy under that touch, his head spinning from the overwhelming realness of the visions.</p><p><em> “He even pictured himself as your elder brother.” </em>The dragon’s harsh voice is in the most bizarre contrast with the careful, tender embrace encircling Anakin’s body from behind, making him feel smaller somehow, but safe and protected at the same time.</p><p>“When you are upset, you should be running <em>to</em> <em>me</em>,” a dear, familiar voice whispers into Anakin’s ear, sending a wave of warmth through his body and making his chest feel tight.</p><p>Oh, how badly he wants to just relax into that embrace and never ever have to worry about anything again...</p><p><em> “Oh, yes,” </em> the dragon nods, as if having read Anakin’s mind, <em> “you have always wanted him to be your rock.”  </em></p><p>“I will always be with you, my dear Padawan.” The once extorted promise rings, vibrating in another Obi-Wan’s chest, and Anakin can feel it with his cheek as he has suddenly found himself pressed to it.</p><p>And yeah, maybe he is weak and pathetic because he can’t find it in himself not to bury his face in his Master’s robes even deeper while he has the chance, but he doesn’t care, breathing his lungs full of his mouth-watering scent before the vision disappears, leaving him to choke on the first convulsive gasps of the oncoming hysteria.</p><p>It barely even registers in his distressed brain when the dragon keeps speaking, <em> “You begged for his saving grace, and he was your healer.” </em></p><p>“Let me heal you, you stupid child.” Both annoyance and relief sound in that deep, velvety voice, and Anakin watches with wide-eyed amazement as another Master’s silhouette shining in the Force reaches out to pour his Light into the black hole of Anakin’s soul.</p><p>The panic clenching Anakin’s chest recedes immediately, leaving him a bit lightheaded with sudden, unexpected relief.</p><p><em> “He was your protector,” </em> the dragon shakes its head in disapproval, <em> “even when he shouldn’t have been.” </em></p><p>“Don’t raise your voice at him!” another Master snaps at someone’s blurred figure, moving slightly to shield Anakin with his body.</p><p>The heat of shame spreads over Anakin’s ashen cheeks again at the reminder of how many times his Master had to defend him before other Jedi, excusing his behavior even when he didn’t deserve it. And the worst of it is – even now, Anakin can barely restrain himself from crying and begging for his Master to interfere and protect him from his mean Light.</p><p>Having noticed Anakin’s clear discomfort, the dragon continues, sounding slightly more pleased now, <em> “He offered you the choice no one else had ever given you. And what did you choose?” </em></p><p>“Be <em> whatever the kriff </em>you want to be, Anakin!” There is so much tenderness under that exasperation that Anakin’s eyes immediately fill with tears as he watches one more Master shake his head at him with a tired sigh.</p><p>“Master!” he whimpers pathetically, instinctively dashing forward to the illusion in search of comfort, but the dragon’s tail snaps before him, blocking his way.</p><p><em> “You became a Sith and chose to call him the voice of your temptation,” </em>the shimmering silhouette practically purrs with poorly hidden glee. </p><p>“I know what my voice does to you, Ani…” The honey-thick cadence fills Anakin’s ears, sending his mind reeling. “You will never listen to anyone or anything but me.”</p><p>The dragon cackles, <em> “You may not be a slave boy anymore, but you still don’t know what to do with yourself without your Master, do you?” </em></p><p>“Come here, dear one. Come sit at my feet,” another version of the Jedi beckons, and Anakin falls to his knees before him, looking up with worshipful doe eyes the way he always does.</p><p>At that, the dragon rumbles approvingly, <em> “He was right to call himself your control then.” </em></p><p>“I don’t need restraints to control you, my dear.” Another Master’s hand reaches down to caress Anakin’s flushed cheek, and Anakin mewls just as pathetically as he did all those years ago.</p><p><em> “He is always too soft and indulgent with you,” </em> the dragon spits out with disgust before collecting itself and reminding Anakin in a more level tone, <em> “but don’t forget that under that façade, he is still a warrior.” </em></p><p>“It’s over Anakin. I have the high ground.” Another Master spreads his arms dramatically, grinning down at Anakin and lowering his training lightsaber.</p><p><em> “He is a hidden menace,” </em>the dragon warns, and despite his resentment against Anakin, there is something akin to pity in his eyes.</p><p>“I can stop you. Just like this.” The darker version of his Master wrapped in black velvet snaps his fingers, making Anakin’s whole body shudder on the floor before him, his fear mixing with the sudden thrill of excitement.</p><p><em> “But all he has ever truly wanted to be is a Jedi.” </em> The dragon shakes its head, as if in disapproval, but the gesture does nothing to cover up the sudden chest-tightening fondness in its voice and the way its smooth cadence caresses the word <em> Jedi </em>.</p><p>“What will I be if I’m not a Jedi anymore?” one more Obi-Wan Kenobi wonders, his voice trembling with despair, and Anakin’s heart clenches.</p><p>“Master, I’m sorry–” He jumps to his feet, reaching out to the illusion in a futile attempt to take away his pain somehow, but stops in his tracks when his Master’s mournful figure recoils from the touch.</p><p><em> “But they made him the Negotiator.” </em>Regret is almost tangible in the dragon’s voice, and, as if its manifestation, another grieving silhouette steps out of the shadows of the dark throne, making tears well up in Anakin’s eyes.         </p><p>He knows what this version of his Master is going to say before he even opens his mouth.</p><p>“I used to negotiate peace, now I only negotiate <em> war </em>.” </p><p>Anakin’s lips move silently along with his Master’s as he speaks.</p><p>The dragon watches him, its expression grim.</p><p>
  <em> “They pushed him to be a war general.” </em>
</p><p>“The Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, not <em> generals </em>,” another Master reminds Anakin, appearing out of nowhere and brimming with righteous indignation, and Anakin doesn’t dare argue with that, even though the sight of his Master wearing armor makes him weak in the knees.</p><p><em> “And when he tried to refuse, they branded him </em> – <em> the very best of them </em> – <em> a renegade,” </em>the dragon tells Anakin, just as offended as Obi-Wan himself was. </p><p>“This Council is not higher than the Force!” an indignant voice asserts as another Obi-Wan Kenobi comes to stand before Anakin, his chin lifted defiantly, and a wave of hot, blazing rage washes over Anakin as he regrets that the High Council is already dead, otherwise he would kill them with his bare hands. </p><p>“The sleemos…” he mutters under his breath, but the dragon catches it anyway.</p><p><em> “And </em> you <em> are no better, </em> ” it hisses. “You <em> have made him defy me. You have made him a rebel. Just like in that book that had told you legends of him.” </em></p><p>“I broke every single Jedi dogma while raising you. I betrayed everything I believed in and chose to believe in <em> you </em> instead.” Another Master graces Anakin with a fond smile, but the azure of his eyes is dark and stormy with infinite sadness.</p><p>And Anakin wants to just die on the spot.</p><p><em> “But that was not good enough for you,” </em> the dragon continues. <em> “Another one of your childhood tales spoke of a beautiful noble king defeating his enemies with a magic sword, and that is how you see your Jedi Master, isn’t it?” </em>It’s not really a question, but Anakin nods anyway, not daring to speak or even raise his lowered head anymore.</p><p>“You’ve always thought your old Master something akin to royalty.” One more Master appears to confirm the dragon’s statement, looking at Anakin softly, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement.</p><p><em> “And you did everything to give him the power to rule.” </em> The dragon accusingly points his claw at Anakin’s chest. <em> “Even though he wanted none of it, you pushed it onto him anyway.” </em></p><p>Anakin opens his mouth to protest, but not a single word wants to come out.</p><p><em> “You threatened the other Jedi, forbidding them to elect another High Council,” </em> the dragon speaks instead. <em> “You killed that precious democracy of yours and made your Master the sole Councilor and the Grand Master of the Order.” </em></p><p>“I have been chosen by my brothers and sisters to represent the Order and advise them on all matters in these dark times.” This Obi-Wan Kenobi speaks in his Negotiator voice, and it makes Anakin’s skin rise with goosebumps from sudden arousal.</p><p><em> “But even that wasn’t enough for you, was it?” </em> The dragon lashes its tail angrily, almost hitting the spot where Anakin is standing. Quivering. <em> “Your king still needed a kingdom, so you used his desire to protect you and forced him to take over the Galaxy.”  </em></p><p>“Looks like this is a coup now.” A long-suffering sigh, and yet another Master is looking at Anakin with disappointment.</p><p>Anakin presses the crown to his chest, clenching it in distress, unable to find any words to excuse what he did and close to tears.</p><p>
  <em> “Congratulations, Anakin Skywalker. Your fairytale hero is the Emperor now.” </em>
</p><p>The dragon closes its serpentine eyes, shaking its head, all its posture practically screaming of how stupid and worthless it considers Anakin to be. <em> “But if you had actually read those silly books of yours to the end, you would know that to protect their kingdoms, kings have to go to war.” </em></p><p>“Cross us – and be assured: the Jedi will end your reign and lay waste to everything you hold dear, and our lightsabers will be the last thing you see.”</p><p>The red and blue of the lightsabers both look amazing in this other Master’s hands as he uses the double-wielding of Jar'Kai, spinning the cerulean blade of the Jedi and the bloody blade of the Sith in his hands. Anakin watches him, transfixed, the heat of arousal immediately pooling in his lower belly, and as hard as he tries, he still finds it impossible to regret waking this side of his Master. <em> The hidden menace.  </em></p><p>The dragon tsks, annoyed by Anakin’s enraptured reaction and the fact that he even has to spell it out for him, <em> “You really have summoned the Devil. And not just the proverbial one </em> – the real one. <em> The one who ended the Old Republic. And hundreds of republics before that. You have woken the War, you silly child. And for what?” </em></p><p>All the other Masters freeze where they are standing in a circle around Anakin, staring at him expectantly with a whole spectrum of emotions – from fondness to disappointment, from softness to exasperation, from joy to pain – in their kind eyes.</p><p>They all reach out to him – the angel and the devil, the soft and the sharp ones, the caring and the dangerous, those of the Light and those of the Dark – offering their silent help. But Anakin just can’t take it.</p><p>Sobbing hysterically, he falls to the ground, curling up in a fetal position to appear as small as possible. A ball of misery.</p><p>“I don’t know! I don’t– I just need you with me, Master,” he weeps, shaking bodily and cradling the black crown against his chest. “Inside my head, inside my soul…” <em> Inside my body. </em></p><p><em> “Oh, darling, but he already is.” </em> The dragon glides to loom over Anakin’s quivering figure. <em> “He thinks of moving – and you shift with his momentum. He thinks of speaking </em> – <em> and you cry out, choking on his words in your mouth.” </em></p><p>A shiver runs down Anakin’s spine, and he is not even sure whether it’s fear or his strange, ill-timed arousal again.</p><p><em> “Your every wish is his. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Whatever path you choose – it will inevitably lead you to him,” </em> the dragon continues mercilessly, not a single emotion in its voice. <em> “You are just a reflection of him in the black mirror of Darkness. Doesn’t it scare you, little human?” </em></p><p>It probably should, but it doesn’t, and Anakin is too tired and emotionally wrung out to keep bickering with the dragon anyway. So he just lies there, on the marble floor, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, too overwhelmed by his feelings to even distinguish them, let alone give them names.</p><p>He doesn’t know how long he has been like that. It feels like hours. Days. Ages. </p><p>He is too dizzy to get up. He is too weak. Too exhausted. But eventually, he manages to lift himself on his trembling arms and knees and just starts crawling, completely ignoring the Light and the shadows it casts that only resemble Obi-Wan Kenobi, but are not actually him. </p><p>He crawls to his Master – to the one on the throne. The real one. The radiant one.</p><p><em> “That’s right, little boy,” </em> the dragon taunts. <em> “Run to daddy. Ask him to wipe your nose. Just like he always does.” </em></p><p>Anakin ignores it, squeezing his eyes shut to clear the childish tears of self-pity clouding them.</p><p>“Master, please, wake up!” he begs, sniffling, as he rests his heavy head on the Jedi’s lap and hugs his legs. “Come back to me! I need you!”</p><p><em> “He can’t hear you, Anakin,” </em> the dragon says from behind his back. <em> “I am speaking to him, and he is only listening to me now.” </em></p><p>“No, no!” Anakin shakes his head stubbornly, pressing his forehead against his Master’s thigh. “Please, wake up! Please, please!”</p><p><em> “You are pathetic, little Sith.” </em> The dragon sneers, but Anakin ignores it, taking his Master’s ice-cold hands in his own and pressing his lips to them over and over again, as though it could somehow breathe life back into them and return their warmth. </p><p><em> “The Devil has so many names, so many faces, Anakin Skywalker,” </em> the cold, merciless voice of the Light keeps speaking to him. <em> “You begged every one of them to love you, but none of them did. Not the Jedi, not the Sith.” </em></p><p>Anakin mewls in distress, on the verge of consciousness from the lashing pain every word causes him.</p><p><em> “Obi-Wan Kenobi can love the whole world, but </em> not you <em> .” </em> The Light laughs cruelly. <em> “Not your disgusting, distorted soul corrupted by the Dark Side.” </em></p><p>Anakin cries out in pain, feeling like his chest is collapsing in on itself, wishing to eject said soul in horror and disgust.</p><p><em> “His heart is big enough to love the entire Galaxy,” </em> the Light continues, not bothered by Anakin’s suffering in the slightest, <em> “but it still isn’t enough to love </em> you <em> , no matter how hard he tries.” </em></p><p>Words can kill. Anakin knows that now. Feels that now. Feels every single syllable pierce him like daggers, making him bleed all over the pristine whiteness of his Master’s robes, painting them crimson, royal and regal against the Jedi’s porcelain skin. <em> Warm. </em></p><p>“Master, wake up…” Anakin’s whitened lips whisper over and over again. “Wake up, please, wake up! I’m hurt… I need you…”</p><p><em> “Give up, Anakin.” </em> The dragon only shakes its head, watching Anakin’s useless attempts to reach his Master’s consciousness in the Force. <em> “He may have set your Darkness on fire, foolishly trying to get warm, but no matter how brightly you burn, that blazing flame of yours will never melt my ice, will never warm him up.” </em></p><p>“No!” Anakin screams both in pain and despair, finally ready to recognize what he has known all along. The Light is right. </p><p><em> “And how does it feel to know that it’s thanks to </em> your <em> efforts that the entire world will love Obi-Wan Kenobi, fueling his supernova?” </em> The dragon’s mocking tone makes Anakin sick to his stomach. Or maybe, it’s his heart, which has sunk into it at the terrible realization that everything – all of it – is indeed <em> his </em> fault. <em> “And sooner or later, it will explode and purge the world so that there is no more place for Darkness. Only Light. Only me.” </em></p><p>Anakin is so shocked that he freezes in place, completely still for a moment. Even his uncontrollable sobbing stops, having died abruptly in his chest.</p><p>“Obi-Wan...” he calls then, suddenly springing into panicked action, first shaking his Master’s shoulders, then cupping his face with his blood-stained hands to press their foreheads together. “<em> Obi-Wan! </em>”</p><p>It is the first time he has ever called him by his name.</p><p>The word is alien on Anakin’s lips.</p><p>It tastes like crumbled starlight in his mouth, cold and sharp and distant.</p><p>Not warm like <em> Master </em> . Not passionate like <em> Master </em>.</p><p>But it <em> is </em> his name. The one he has chosen for himself a million years ago.</p><p><em> “Obi-Wan?” </em> The dragon huffs out an incredulous laugh. <em> “Oh no, little Sith, it is too late to call him by that name. His name is War now.” </em></p><p>“That’s not true!” Anakin sobs wetly against his Master’s cheek. “He has brought <em>peace</em> to the Galaxy.”</p><p><em> “Peace?” </em> Even though Anakin can’t see the dragon’s face, he practically feels it lift an eyebrow. <em> “Peace is a </em> lie. <em> You of all people should know that, little Sith.”  </em></p><p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p><p>A shiver runs down Anakin’s spine.</p><p>“<em> And you should have chosen your words more carefully,” </em> the dragon chuckles. <em> “Obi-Wan has always listened to you. And you could have given him any name you desired, yet you have chosen to call him the Devil, and now that’s what he is going to become, in the end. Just like in that book of yours. The Bringer of Light.” </em></p><p>The dragon tips its head to one of the chamber’s huge, floor-to-ceiling stained-glass windows depicting a scene so very typical for all Jedi Temples: the two mortal enemies – a Jedi and a Sith – frozen in their endless battle of Light and Darkness.</p><p><em>“And that is where you two will inevitably find yourselves. A Jedi and a Sith. There is just no other ending to your story,”</em> the dragon prophesies ominously and disappears in a burst of golden sparkles, but Anakin can still hear its cruel laughter ringing in his ears.</p><p><b> <em>“Don’t listen to it, Ani,”</em> </b> the Darkness chimes in at last, swirling around its broken, inconsolable child crying his eyes out. <b> <em>“Put the crown on our Master’s head. We </em> </b> <b>can</b> <b> <em> contain him.”</em> </b></p><p>“We can?” Anakin asks tearfully, <em> incredulously </em>, raising his head from where he has been sobbing on his Master’s shoulder.</p><p><b> <em>“I promise you,” </em> </b>the Darkness purrs, rolling over the both of them in a silky wave, washing away the blood and the tears. Healing Anakin’s wounds. Soothing his pain.</p><p>
  <b> <em>“Someday, there will be a different picture on this window. Of you and him. Of Light and Darkness. Together. In perfect balance.”</em> </b>
</p><p>Anakin smiles, his eyes clouding up with the beautiful picture the Darkness is painting for him. </p><p><b> <em>“Suns and stars will shine through them, sending their Light to flow in golden streams. And I will recede. I will bow before it as it scatters across marble floors in a colorful mosaic. Once the Light is </em> </b> <b>warm</b> <b> <em> again, I will yield.”</em> </b></p><p>“Obi-Wan, <em> Master </em> ,” Anakin whispers barely an inch away from his lips. “Forget the Force. Forget the peace. Forget the Galaxy. Come back to me. <em> Please. </em> I love you <em> more </em>.”</p><p>But the Jedi doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Not when Anakin begs, over and over again. Not when Anakin cries, pressing his wet, salty lips all over his face. Not even when Anakin crowns him, putting the blood-stained obsidian headpiece on top of his head in reverent silence.</p><p>
  <em> May the Dark Side be with you, Master.  </em>
</p><p>And the crown shines from within, sprouting thin golden branches wrapping around the black spikes and intertwining, carrying droplets of blood and turning them into berries of rubies. </p><p>Darkness spills from under the band, cascading down the Jedi’s body like a mournful veil, and the terrifying blinding halo around his head feels dimmer now but still undeniably <em> there </em> – shining around the sharp, protruding spikes of the magnificent headpiece.</p><p>A Jedi wearing the crown of Darkness.</p><p>An angel wearing the crown of hell. No matter what age it is, old republics or new empires, the concept is always the same. A perfect subject for a painting. A perfect plot for a book. A story of <em> despicable </em> sacrilege. The desecration of everything that is holy. The picture absolutely <em> divine </em> in its deliciously forbidden sinfulness…</p><p>Anakin has never seen his Master so beautiful. </p><p>Anakin has never known his Master to be so dangerous. </p><p>“Master, I’m begging you. Hear my prayer. Come back to me!” Anakin whispers, staring up at him worshipfully from where he is kneeling at the foot of his throne. </p><p>But the miracle doesn’t happen: the Dark crown or not, his Master doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, and his eyes remain just as cold and distant, reflecting galaxies far, far away, having deemed Anakin unworthy of their gaze.</p><p>
  <em> Where did you find your complete serenity, Master? If I was made for you, why is it not with me? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don’t love me if you can’t. Just– Just come back. Please. Please... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Anakin doesn’t know how long he has been sitting there, weeping his eyes out and begging his Master to choose <em> him </em> over the Force once again and return, but at some point, there is a soft knock on the door, and it startles Anakin out of his trance.</p><p>“Lord Consort!” Rex’s worried voice calls out for him. “Please forgive the interruption, sir, but it’s urgent.”</p><p>Anakin hastily wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand and stumbles to the heavy, gilded doors on his unsteady legs. He opens one leaf just slightly to prevent anyone from looking inside the throne room.</p><p>And if Rex notices what a mess Anakin is – disheveled and pale like death, with red-rimmed, puffy eyes still wet from crying – he doesn’t say anything.</p><p>“Sir.” Rex clears his throat, seeing the wild look in Anakin’s eyes and clearly doubting that he is paying attention. “A delegation of Clan Saxon is here, claiming Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze has no right to the throne of Mandalore.”</p><p>Anakin cringes at the name Kryze.</p><p><em> That bitch’s sister. </em> Has she tried to seduce his Master too? <em> Has she? </em></p><p>If it were up to Anakin, he would overthrow her rule himself. And kill her, just in case. But Emperor Kenobi is the one who rules, and he supports Clan Kryze’s claim to their throne.</p><p>“Clan Saxon has demanded that the Emperor remove Bo-Katan from power in their favor,” Rex explains further, having received no clear reaction to the news, and Anakin’s hand reaches for his lightsaber purely on instinct at this point.</p><p>“<em> No one demands anything </em> from the Emperor,” he spits out, emphasizing every word. </p><p>“I know, sir,” Rex shifts from one foot to the other in clear discomfort, “but they said they wouldn’t take no for an answer. They have even brought a <em> Super </em>-Class Star Destroyer. An old one, but still.”</p><p>Anakin is left speechless for a moment.</p><p>
  <em> The sheer audacity! </em>
</p><p>“Well, how about a blaster bolt to the head?” Anakin suggests, brimming with indignation. “Will they take <em> that </em> for an answer?”</p><p>“Sir,” Rex lifts his palms in a calming gesture, “we have actually tried that already. You know, before coming here. We wouldn’t disturb you or his Blessed Majesty otherwise, but...”</p><p>Rex falls silent for a moment, and Anakin rolls his eyes in irritation.</p><p>“Oh, just spill it, Rex!”</p><p>“Yes, sir.” Rex nods nervously and proceeds to explain, “The problem is we can’t just shoot them down in the middle of the main square without civilian casualties. Not on a busy day like this. There are <em> hundreds </em> of pilgrims out there right now–”</p><p>“Look, Rex, Force knows I would absolutely <em> love </em> to execute those traitors on the square before the Temple and let the whole Galaxy watch and learn,” Anakin interrupts him, clenching his fists to keep his anger at bay, “but I have a much, <em> much </em> bigger problem right now, okay?”</p><p>Rex stares at him in horror, probably imagining the extent of a problem that could keep Anakin Skywalker from personally killing his Master’s enemies.</p><p>Anakin rolls his eyes again. </p><p>“Listen, it’s not like I’m the only Jedi here.” Anakin smirks. “Hell, I’m not even a Jedi at all for that matter.”</p><p>Rex smirks too.</p><p>“But this planet is kriffing <em> crawling </em> with Jedi,” Anakin reminds him, “so just go ask any of them to take care of this situation. On my orders.”</p><p>Anakin has almost shut the door of the throne room in front of Rex, thinking that the problem is solved, but the Clone General calls after him again.</p><p>“Sir! The Mandalorians are wearing their old school armor, so even with the Jedi involvement, I’m afraid civilian casualties will be unavoidable.”</p><p>Anakin pulls the door open again.</p><p>“You gotta be kidding me!” he exclaims in disbelief. “They have actually brought beskar?”</p><p>Rex only nods.</p><p>Anakin groans in frustration at the timing of this whole ordeal. <em> Just kriffing perfect! </em></p><p>“Okay, I’ll deal with the Mandalorians myself,” he sighs, looking heavenward and asking the Force for patience. “Just not right now. Stall them a little, okay?”</p><p>“And the ship?” Rex reminds Anakin. </p><p>“Well, what the hell do you think, Rex?” Anakin snaps. “Shoot it out of the sky! Or is it covered in kriffing beskar too?”</p><p>“Stars, I hope not!” Rex chuckles.</p><p>“We would have dealt with it already if we could, sir, but it’s hovering right above the city.” Cody emerges from behind Rex’s back and stands before Anakin, a datapad in each hand, and a grim expression on his face.</p><p>Unlike Rex, he gives Anakin a not too subtle once-over.</p><p>“Have you been crying, Lord Consort?” he asks unceremoniously, squinting in suspicion. “<em> Again? </em>”</p><p>“Oh, for Force’s sake!” Anakin rolls his eyes, slamming the door shut in front of the two grinning Generals and pressing his forehead to its cool surface with a tired sigh – only to almost jump out of his skin a moment later when he hears a quiet chuckle behind his back.</p><p>“<em> Lord Consort </em>, huh?”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N:</p><p>The Mandalorian song mentioned in this chapter is <strong>“Ka'rta Tor”</strong> (“One Heart of Justice” in Mando'a), which is an ancient war chant adapted for the clone troopers by Jango Fett, who replaced the traditional Mandalorian keywords with more appropriate Republic ones. It’s not really about Obi-Wan, of course :)</p><p>It goes like this:</p><p>  <em>Kandosii sa kyr'am ast, </em><br/><em>Troan teroch jetiise a'den,</em><br/><em>Duraan vi at ara'nov. </em><br/><em>Vode an, ka'rta tor. </em></p><p>[Translation]</p><p> </p><p>  <em>As ruthless as Death itself, </em><br/><em>The pitiless face of The Jedi’s wrath, </em><br/><em>Let us look down on all who are before us.</em><br/><em>Brothers all, one heart of justice.</em></p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://youtu.be/SJ_Ny0WYXTk?t=93">Star Wars: Mandalorian War Chant (Gra'tua Cuun x Ka'rta Tor) | EPIC VERSION</a></p><p> </p><p>As always, many thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p><p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Jetiise a'den</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*bangs pots and pans * THE END IS NEAR, PEOPLE!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord Consort, </span>
  </em>
  <span>huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin whirls around, eyes huge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master is looking down at him from his high throne, his arms crossed on his chest and his eyebrows raised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, I–” Anakin breathes out, struggling to believe his own eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ve heard me! You’ve come back for me!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t know if I would see you again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You</span>
  <em>
    <span>, not your cruel Light. The </span>
  </em>
  <span>real </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I thought you had abandoned me. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t do that to me again, Master! Don’t leave me...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what Anakin wants to say – to </span>
  <em>
    <span>weep</span>
  </em>
  <span> into his Master’s robes while held tightly against his chest. But what he blurts out instead is, “It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea, Master. I swear! That’s just what they all call me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I didn’t hear you protest too much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your Highness</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His Master chuckles, inclining his head and looking at Anakin with his usual gracious indulgence for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Anakin opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything. Just like he didn’t say anything when he heard the title for the first time. He never corrected anyone, never told them he was no more than his Master’s Padawan. Because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master doesn’t say anything either – just observes Anakin with a soft smile for a long moment before he finally inquires, almost distractedly, his gaze sliding off Anakin’s tense figure and losing focus as the Jedi looks deeper. “What did the Generals want? Is there a problem?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Master, no problems,” Anakin lies immediately, his eyes huge with feigned innocence but his chest tightening with the terror of his Master’s finding out how entirely </span>
  <em>
    <span>incompetent</span>
  </em>
  <span> Anakin has been, allowing those Mandalorians into their Holy City while the Jedi was in his trance. “I have everything under control,” he assures his Master, ordering his voice not to tremble, and almost wants to laugh at his own words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Under control. Him!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi probably feels the same about Anakin’s declaration because he lifts his eyebrow incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, Padawan?” A small smile tugs at his lips. “Is that why everything is on fire?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin looks around, his eyes wide: the Force itself is flaming with his desperation, its dark waters suddenly turned into fuel, and the tongues of fire dancing, reflected in the shards of broken glass…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Control? What control? Anakin has never heard of it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only chaos!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Master… I–” Anakin tries, not really knowing what to say, but his Master’s attention has already shifted from him to the rest of their surroundings, carefully inspecting the room with barely hidden confusion and eventually stopping on the Jedi himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On what he is sitting on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What in Sith hell is this thing?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On what he is dressed in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Force, what am I wearing?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On what is going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you do, Anakin?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi springs up and dashes away from his throne as if the flowing blackness of its obsidian were on fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The white flow of his skirts spills all around the new Emperor with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>swish</span>
  </em>
  <span>, startling him to an abrupt stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks down at it and freezes. Appalled. Speechless. His knuckles almost as white from the force of his grip as the silk and chiffon he is clutching at.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master…” Anakin breathes out, no less horrified. “Please… I can explain…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi startles, jerking his head up to stare at Anakin, his eyes still wide with shock, as if he sees him for the first time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No need, Anakin,” he utters in a strangled voice. “I see you have really gone out of your way taking care of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s words get stuck in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What is there to say, really? How can he excuse his behavior or explain that he didn’t mean to offend his Master by clothing him in these civilian garments? That they are nothing more than Anakin’s ridiculous attempt to dress him up in something worthy of his ethereal beauty, of his breathtaking Force presence? As if there were enough silk and jewelry in this world not to pale in comparison...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin closes his mouth. There is no point in him speaking. Not when his Master is already breathing erratically, tugging off the rings, pulling off the bracelets with such wild, frantic determination as though they were white hot instead of white golden around his wrists and fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How many times– I am not your kriffing fairytale prince, Anakin!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The diamonds and sapphires are thrown to the floor – a scattering of stars at Anakin’s feet. Discarded and useless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not a doll for you to dress up and put on display!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A gaseous nebula of the torn gossamer overskirt follows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jedi!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I trusted you! How could you do this to me?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin still doesn’t say anything – </span>
  <em>
    <span>unable</span>
  </em>
  <span> to say anything, he just stares back at his Master, still frozen in place and not even daring to breathe, until eventually, inevitably, in his fury, the Jedi notices the crown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not the crown, Master!” Anakin dashes towards him in horror, reaching out in a belated attempt to stop his Master from throwing the magnificent headpiece to the ground too. “Please! Not the crown!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The look his Master gives Anakin is outright murderous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> you put this thing on me without my consent?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now it is Anakin’s turn to be thrown half across the room and onto the marble floor like a useless trinket when his Master’s Force push hits him in the chest along with his furious words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was it not enough that you had already pushed me into this without even asking my opinion? Did you have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span> force this crown on me too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin grunts in pain, trying to prop himself on his elbows and get up, as he watches his Master reach up to take the crown off his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, kriff.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there is nothing Anakin can do but pray to the Force for the miracle when the headpiece won’t come off at all. Because the very moment it does… Well, judging by the look on his Master’s face, those sharp spikes are going right into Anakin’s chest. Best case scenario.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Master, don’t!” he begs desperately, dripping blood from his split lip all over the white marble. “It’s the only thing keeping you contained!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t feel very </span>
  <em>
    <span>contained</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now,” his Master snaps, turning to him. A face of cold fury. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Padawan</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That last word sounds like an insult. Like a slap across the face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should </span>
  <em>
    <span>run</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master’s voice warps, cracking and splitting into many.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s how Anakin </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> he should. </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Get up and run, you silly Sith boy.</span></em> <em><span>It’s what you’ve always feared. It really is the end of your Jedi’s infinite patience.</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>But Anakin can’t make himself move, like prey mesmerized by a predator’s gaze. He only whimpers pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut and not even trying to get up anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would beg for mercy, but his Master has none. Not anymore. Besides, Anakin doesn’t feel like he deserves any. Not after what he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And those measured footsteps he hears – well, they are measuring the last moments of his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tap. Tap. Tap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only the hissing sound of an igniting lightsaber that Anakin is expecting never comes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, there is a sound of the door opening. Well, not so much opening as...</span>
  <em>
    <span>falling flat</span>
  </em>
  <span> onto the floor to let the angry Emperor pass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walk away from Anakin Skywalker yet again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes wide, Anakin stares after his Master for a long moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, who doesn’t love a good dramatic exit?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he runs after him. Of course he does. Just...at a safe distance, barking orders into his comm for both the clones and the Jedi currently in the Temple to keep away from the Emperor and not to engage, while he himself follows him a few dozen steps behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet when he bursts out of the Temple’s main gates just moments after his Master, he feels like he has somehow managed to miss a lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A lot.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin draws in a sharp breath: the crown lies discarded on the steps in front of him, the Force humming in a soft lament around it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somewhere below, the city is eerily silent, immersed in the twilight of the shadow cast by the Star Destroyer looming over it, but polished Mandalorian steel manages to gleam nonetheless, all around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On </span>
  <em>
    <span>dozens of dead bodies</span>
  </em>
  <span> around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all lie frozen on the steps of the Temple. Not a scratch on their shiny beskar. Not a single lightsaber scorch mark. Yet there they are, their visors cracked from the heat and revealing a stripe of burned flesh where their eyes should be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come to Jedha to see the Light of the Jedi.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unwarranted, the line from a holo-ad springs up in Anakin’s mind as he looks at the dead Mandalorian warriors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, they saw it all right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin shudders. He wills his palms away from his own eyes, fighting the primal urge to cover them. He runs down the steps – to where his Master doesn’t even bother igniting his blade to fight beskar anymore. Because why would he need a lightsaber if he is the Light itself?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A one-man army, marching down the steps of his Temple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walks – and the blaster bolts ricochet off him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses his hands to the Mandalorians’ heads – and they fall to the ground, shrieking in agony as their faces burn under their helmets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>...Let the Light of the Jedi shine upon you...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin watches, mesmerized and awed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No restraints.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No stupid Jedi Code to hold his Master back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sheer might.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pure power.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air is crackling with it, fresh with the scent of ozone, and Anakin breathes it in, drawing his lungs full until he is dizzy and half-drunk on it.</span>
</p>
<p><span>Arousal – hot and sparking like a torn wire – twists in Anakin’s stomach. In spite of all the years of training and fighting side by side with his Master, he was not prepared to see the Jedi in a battle </span><em><span>like</span></em> <em><span>that </span></em><span>– his lethal movements fluid with uncanny grace. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>No humans move that way, not even the Jedi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin has never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Never felt so small and fragile in the face of his Master’s power. And he just can’t get enough. He wants to absorb it with his skin, breathe it in, swallow it until he drowns himself completely...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes! Yes! Kill them, Master! Kill them all! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anakin wants to cry out but bites his tongue at the very last moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dead on the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the reason his Master is so angry and out of control. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the one who broke the ancient ice of his serenity and released the chaos inside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the one who should be punished, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his Master has spared him. Just like Anakin begged him to, back on Coruscant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Spare my life when you end the world! Don’t let me burn with the rest of them!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The belly of the metallic beast looming above the city churns, flashing with searchlights. They slide over the massacre chaotically, as if in panic, picking bits and pieces of the tragedy out of the murky dusk below with rapid flashes until they have found what they were looking for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stop their dance and freeze, all pointing towards one spot on the ground. The ship’s cannons grate as they turn – towards one man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>NO!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time freezes around Anakin, catching his scream with its cotton wool. Muffling it halfway to the man standing alone in the middle of the main square, bathed in the light falling down on him like a waterfall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His robes billowing in the wind created by the ship’s thrusters, he raises his head to look up at the dark shadow of the Star Destroyer. Slowly. Incredulously. As if he has only noticed its looming presence now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t hear Anakin’s scream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t flinch as the very foundation of the Force quakes with Anakin’s blinding terror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t try to hide from all those cannons, directed at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Anakin watches, in painfully slow motion, as the red laser beam cuts through the frozen moment – down and down – slicing through the helpless cloud of Anakin’s Darkness and splitting the twilight in half on its way to his Master’s fragile form until it hits the ground at his feet with a blast, sending rubble in all directions. And Anakin’s heart just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stops</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dies there, on the steps of the Jedi Temple, along with his Master’s figure disappearing behind the wall of dust and fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dies there. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> to die. Powerless. Useless. Unable to protect the only thing that mattered in the entire universe. He begs the Force to take his life too…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his Darkness blares like a siren around him and jump-starts his heart, mercilessly forcing it to beat again, against Anakin’s will.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Always with the drama, Anakin. Like Master, like Padawan.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Darkness chuckles at Anakin’s scream of agony and rushes forward to dispel the cloud of dust and smoke – to let Anakin </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lone figure standing in the middle of the shell-hole. Unharmed. Untouched. The glowing white of the robes unblemished among the rubble and ashes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still full of Light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alive.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master…” Anakin whispers with only his lips, unable to breathe, unable to function properly until his shattered world has finished putting itself back together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obi-Wan Kenobi lives!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Force thunders throughout space and time with Anakin’s voice, its silence swelling with triumphant melody. Full of joy. Full of hope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Encased in a column of light, amid the swirling clouds of smoke and dust, the Jedi laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clear, melodious sound echoes through the empty square, sending a chill down Anakin’s spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, in a flash, his Master’s hand shoots up, his fist clenching around something as if he has caught an annoying bug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi looks at it for a moment, tilting his head with curiosity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he just throws it away. Just like that – draws his hand back a little and pitches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Anakin watches, watches – barely alive with all the shock his body and mind have experienced in the last few minutes – how, obeying the movement of his Master’s hand, the five-mile-long Star Destroyer suddenly takes off into the stratosphere at virtually impossible angles and darts away from the city and towards the desert, down a falling trajectory, twirling and spinning chaotically in the air, completely out of control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master turns around, looking up at Anakin, the blue of his eyes piercing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Electric.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Anakin stares into them, unable to look away – not even when the distant glow of the explosion illuminates the horizon behind his Master’s back, tinging his unearthly halo with red and orange hues.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somewhere on the far edge of his consciousness, Anakin registers victorious shouts of wonder and excitement rising inside the city walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bless the Emperor! The Force is with him!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, the Force </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> with him, Anakin realizes, loud and clear. All of it. Not just some pitiful scraps the Jedi and the Sith are constantly fighting and fussing over – </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>In all its terrifying, merciless might.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What does it take to wield that kind of power? What amount of control does it require? How much ice did his Master have to press to the bleeding wound of it to stop the swelling? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter now. Now that Anakin has finally got what he wanted. Now that all that glacier has finally melted away from his Master’s heart under Anakin’s burning heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No ice to cool the flame. No serenity to contain all that power. And the world is going to burn. All because Anakin Skywalker wanted a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>warmth</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Oh, come on, boy! Enough with the drama! </em>
  </b>
  <span>The Darkness snaps at him, its voice taunting.</span>
  <b>
    <em> You couldn’t give a shit about the world even if you tried. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin almost rolls his eyes: the Darkness is right. He doesn’t care if the world burns. He is only concerned that his Jedi’s wrath might have just turned against </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>– the one with the offending </span>
  <em>
    <span>passion</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p><span>And</span> <span>oh, perhaps the Sith Code was never just a mantra or a simple set of rules but a </span><em><span>warning</span></em><span> because…</span></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>PEACE IS A LIE. I AM WAR. AND WHERE I WALK IS WAR.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master’s voice warps and grates, rising and falling with an unnatural lilt, sounding metallic and distorted beyond recognition, like a garbled, damaged holo-recording of thousands of voices screaming in wrath and agony at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>YOU ARE IN MY WAY. YOU ARE MY ENEMY.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cold shiver of terror runs down Anakin’s spine under his Master’s eerie, unblinking gaze, staring at him. Rapaciously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I AM HUNGRY. I WILL DEVOUR YOU.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin gulps, willing his body to stay where it is and not to even try and flee. There is nowhere to run anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Looks pretty much like this is it for us, child,</em>
  </b>
  <span> the Darkness supplies unhelpfully, its voice inappropriately careless, almost cheerful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is exactly what the Light warned him about, back on Coruscant. But it can’t be how the story ends. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> be! Anakin refuses to believe that!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Anakin hears himself beg, his Darkness spilling out of his mouth in the last, desperate try to do at least something to protect its stupid heir. It pushes the words out like a shield in front of Anakin, before he can even think of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Master, calm down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even though they are not actually fighting yet, standing still in the suspended moment, Anakin can almost see the Force between them flashing with electric streaks illuminating their faces, as though their blades were clashing against each other, dancing to their own sizzling music. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why are they trapped in this constant battle with each other?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why are they always at war?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Enemies</span>
  </em>
  <span> when they could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>lovers</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! It’s not right! It’s not how it is supposed to be!” Anakin’s lips whisper in horror, and instead of reaching for his lightsaber to delay his own imminent death, if only for a moment, Anakin’s palms rise in a pacifying gesture, signaling his defeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Master. Don’t fight me. I’m not your enemy. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>surrender</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the high-pitched sound is already piercing his mind just the way it did all those years ago on the landing platform when his Master was displeased with Windu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Close your eyes, Ani. I won’t be able to contain him much longer.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Darkness warns him hastily, sounding hopeless, but still throws itself like a blanket over the fire of the Jedi’s Force Signature in the last desperate attempt at soothing it – only to immediately dissipate around it like a cloud of black smoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a horrified gasp, Anakin squeezes his eyes shut, but even under his tightly closed eyelids, his vision whitens out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Be brave, Anakin… </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master has always said it takes strength to resist the Dark Side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then what does it take to resist the Light?</span>
</p>
<p><span>Anakin doesn’t know. And even if he did, he would never be able to do it. Not when every cell in his body is screaming at him to </span><em><span>yield. </span></em><span>Immediately. Urgently.</span> <span>Now.</span></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Submit and take what your Master wants to give you, you disobedient, ungrateful shit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin lowers his head, mewling pathetically in distress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What a ridiculous way to die</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right before dashing forward to circle his arms around his Master’s neck, as if throwing himself on a landmine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Have mercy!” The shaky exhale of a plea is the only weapon he wields – the only hope he has when he presses his forehead to his Master’s. “Please, stop! </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not the Jedi way…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, you silly boy!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who in Sith hell tries to contain a nuclear blast with a hug?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is so scared, poor thing. Trembling like a leaf against Obi-Wan’s chest as he pleads with him to calm down. Choking on his ragged breaths as he begs him to put on the crown. Sobbing wetly as he promises to be good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are a Jedi, Master. You are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jedi</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he keeps repeating, as if foolishly hoping his words would turn into a Force suggestion. But, of course, they don’t. Unlike Obi-Wan’s, his words have no power. Because he doesn’t even believe in them himself. He has no faith.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You are still a Jedi, Master.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whispers in the Force – fervently, desperately – but…he doesn’t open his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why is that, Anakin?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Are you afraid they might burn out too?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What are you so scared of if you really think your Master is a Jedi, a heart of mercy?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Open your eyes, Anakin.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the boy doesn’t, shaking his head as he presses his eyelids even tighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t mind </span>
  <em>
    <span>crying</span>
  </em>
  <span> them out though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He speaks of dragons and ghosts, devils and kings, of rebirth and destiny – an infinite flow of words. And Obi-Wan listens. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Enchanted. Entranced. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Entrapped</span>
  </em>
  <span> by those words his Padawan is whispering into his lips. Hotly. Desperately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of how sorry he is to have woken the War inside Obi-Wan. Of how scared he is of it now. Of how it will destroy everything if Obi-Wan doesn’t let Anakin soothe his unstable Light. Swaddle it in the soft blanket of Darkness. Lull it to sleep with his long-forgotten tales of times past.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Obi-Wan has learned his lesson. He won’t be trapped by the boy’s words again. He won’t be as stupid as he was on Tatooine all those years ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan knows he needs to break the spell – to make Anakin Skywalker </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop talking.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And the solution is, of course, very simple, inelegant though it may be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what does it matter? This age is so uncivilized anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Obi-Wan dashes forward, closing the last inch of distance between them. Pressing his lips to Anakin’s. Making him choke on those words of his and finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut the kriff up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy shudders, as if electrocuted, his eyes snapping open in shock but immediately rolling back in his head when Obi-Wan yanks his hair back to deepen the kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy moans shamelessly, opening his mouth for Obi-Wan’s tongue, </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>the Force buzzing and thrumming around them with his incandescent pleasure – even more blinding than Obi-Wan’s Light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stars,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he is so loud! </span>
  <em>
    <span>So kriffing loud! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Always screaming in the Force – of his misery, of his need, of his love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Master! Master! Master!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Endlessly. Helplessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan just can’t stand it anymore!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What will it take to make him quiet </span>
  <em>
    <span>for one kriffing minute</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he shouldn’t. Not while he is so angry. So out of control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, he must calm down first. Find his serenity again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But where is it? Is there any left at all? Or is there only passion? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It certainly feels that way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Passion. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The privilege of the Sith. Its burning alcohol is spilled all around him in the Force. But, strangely, it isn’t calling on the Dark Side. Not at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s blazing with cold blue tongues of fire inside him, fueling the Light instead. Feeding that </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean dragon </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anakin was telling him about</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And suddenly everything is reversed and not at all what the Jedi have always preached in their teachings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the Darkness is soothing and calm as opposed to the roaring chaos of the Light demanding to be fed </span>
  <em>
    <span>worlds</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And suddenly Obi-Wan craves that peaceful Darkness. He needs it to bring him his serenity back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To </span>
  <em>
    <span>balance</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needs the gift of the Dark Side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bring me my crown,” he sighs, drawing back from the boy’s invitingly parted lips, “and follow me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord Consort</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What? He is the Dark Side’s gift too after all, isn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s finally time to tear the wrapping paper and enjoy him properly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaaand so the final battle is over, people! But who the hell wins and who loses?</p>
<p>As always, many thanks to my beta <strong><em>cataclysm_dialogue</em></strong></p>
<p>If you guys like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Infinite Sadness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is it...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they return to the throne room, the construction droids have already finished the repairs, and the heavy double doors are back where they should be – no longer a reminder of Obi-Wan’s violent outburst.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walks through them and pauses for a moment, still radiating tension and anger in almost tangible waves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The white marble cracks in threads of a spider’s web under his feet as he walks</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>towards his throne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another offering of the Dark Side, it seems to be calling for him, alluring with the promise of calm and tranquility.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Come to me! I will swallow you. You will be safe within me. I will make you happy, Master...</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan knows that siren song all too well. The same promise day after day, year after year. Speaking to him with Anakin’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Enticing him with those sweet, sweet words. Promising him peace and joy. Offering him pleasure beyond belief. Calling him </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that is exactly what Obi-Wan needs right now – in his world on fire, he wants what Anakin Skywalker has been throwing at his feet all these years, literally begging him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>take</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it’s time. Now that he knows that the Son was telling the truth after all, and the Light is no better than Darkness. It’s just power, plain and simple and terrifying. It doesn’t need to be cherished or worshiped. Doesn’t deserve all the sacrifices he has made in its name. It just needs to be controlled. And</span>
  <em>
    <span> balanced</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the control. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As for the balance... He knows just the person who is supposed to bring it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still naturally graceful but exuding this frightening , unfamiliar, raw power, his Master glides across the chamber, his robes swaying behind him with a quiet swish of silk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The flowing Darkness of his throne is waiting for him, alive with the warmth pulsating inside it like a beating heart, and he sits back on it in a careless sprawl, throwing his head back and exhaling in relaxed pleasure. So effortlessly in control again while Anakin is still a mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pauses at the doors, shifting from one foot to the other, hesitant and still a little surprised to be alive in the first place, so there is nothing he can do but stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master’s glowing figure against the dark backdrop of the throne seems to be made of pure white Light. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cold</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A looming danger, still inexplicably contained, when only a few minutes ago it was ready to blast the entire Galaxy to pieces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin has to suppress a shudder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan Kenobi is so clearly, so obviously not of this world, and Anakin wonders how he has even managed not to see it before. Not to notice that infinite power that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>his Master’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> only. The power he commands so casually, so nonchalantly as though the Force itself is nothing but his pet. It probably is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So is Anakin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master?” he asks carefully, barely a whisper, as he hesitates again, not knowing whether he is allowed to approach or if he should stay away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here, Padawan,” his Master beckons, as if having read Anakin’s mind. Oh, he probably has. Why wouldn’t he? He can do whatever he wants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be afraid,” the Emperor reassures him with a toothy smile that makes Anakin’s skin crawl with goosebumps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hides his trembling hands behind his back and takes a careful step forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> afraid. As he should be. Those who were not are all dead by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So yes, he is terrified but also...strangely </span>
  <em>
    <span>thrilled</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the sudden understanding that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>spared</span>
  </em>
  <span> when others burned, that his Master has </span>
  <em>
    <span>chosen</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to hurt him – </span>
  <em>
    <span>ordered</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mean Light not to hurt him. Like he is special. Like he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>precious</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Like his Master </span>
  <em>
    <span>cares</span>
  </em>
  <span> for him, just a little…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s heart is beating wildly in his chest with every step he takes under the heavy gaze of his Master’s piercing eyes. Dangerous eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s own pupils immediately blaze up with Sith fire in an unconscious response, and the Jedi laughs. Baring his teeth again. Letting his head fall against the backrest. Making Anakin’s breath catch in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s too late to be afraid of me now, dear one,” his Master echoes the words Anakin once heard in his vision, and he bites his lip not to gasp out loud. Not to moan out loud thinking of </span>
  <em>
    <span>other things</span>
  </em>
  <span> he saw in his visions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know…” Lightheaded, he sinks to his knees before his Master’s throne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How many times has he dreamed of this? How many times has he done it? Countless. Infinite. And yet, every time it’s almost unbearable in its intensity. The pleasure that rattles him to the core. The triumph of his destiny being fulfilled. All of it made possible by a simple show of ultimate submission.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Master</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Address me properly!” A slap burns Anakin’s cheek, and a metallic taste fills his mouth when the little scar on his lower lip from earlier starts to bleed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My Emperor</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Anakin gasps out, barely conscious from the sudden rush of arousal spilling into his veins like an adrenaline shot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Yes! Yes, hit me! Hit me again, Master. </em>
  </b>
  <span>His Darkness cries in the Force with Anakin’s need. </span>
  <b>
    <em>Make me bleed for what I’ve done to you. For what I’ve made you become against your will. Punish me! Have your revenge!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Master hears his pleas: he inclines his head with a low hum, as if contemplating, but then only grabs a fistful of Anakin’s hair, making him look up, bloodied and dazed, with a strangled sob on his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Revenge is not the Jedi way, Padawan,” he hisses with a strange glint in his eyes. “But then again, I guess I cannot call myself a Jedi anymore. You made sure of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan Kenobi, once the most luminous of the Jedi, the brightest of stars – now the Emperor on the Dark throne. The High General of the Force. Commanding the Light. Commanding the Darkness. All because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Because Anakin Skywalker imagined his Master to be a fairytale prince, sleeping under the curse of serenity. And in his arrogance, he has awoken him. A dormant dragon. And now he’s going to eat him alive, isn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Master…” Despite himself, Anakin lets his head fall back, baring the vulnerable arch of his neck to his Master’s dark, hungry stare.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Oh, </span><em><span>my</span></em> <em><span>darling</span></em><span>…” his Master’s honey-sweet words make Anakin tremble with both pleasure and fear. “You have finally learned your lesson, haven’t you?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Master!” Anakin breathes out immediately, without so much as stopping to think for a moment, and then hurries to correct himself, “Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your Majesty</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crown is glinting ominously, rising up from the fire of his Master’s locks, and Anakin can’t look away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please forgive me. I’ll be good. I won’t do anything without your permission ever again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>You control us, Master. We are yours. </em>
  </b>
  <span>The Darkness purrs its oaths of loyalty and obedience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am yours,” Anakin echoes, the fire of his eyes burning under his fluttering lashes. “You command me, my Emperor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Such a good boy, when you want to be, Anakin,” his Master breathes his praise into Anakin’s blood-stained lips and chuckles when Anakin whines and shudders uncontrollably before him as the words bring up the memories of his first vision. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> vision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh, dear.” The Jedi’s cool lips press against Anakin’s burning forehead in the chastest kiss imaginable, and Anakin’s twisted mind, where even an innocent touch is sensual and sultry, immediately short-circuits, his vision whiting out with almost orgasmic bliss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ahh!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he gasps for air with his obscenely opened mouth and throws his head back, arching like a bow in his Master’s grip on his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Force, you are so perfectly broken for me.” His Master’s breath burns the shell of Anakin’s ear, sending a wave of scalding pleasure through his body and right into Anakin’s very core – a </span>
  <em>
    <span>spark</span>
  </em>
  <span> that makes the black hole whirl and rumble with satisfaction, igniting like fuel in the combustion chamber of an engine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It makes me want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>ruin</span>
  </em>
  <span> you completely,” the Jedi rasps against Anakin’s vulnerable, exposed throat. “Will you let me, Ani? Will you beg me?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Yes! </span><em><span>Ahh</span></em><span>, </span><em><span>yes, yes!</span></em> <em><span>Please!</span></em><span> Master, please-please-please...” Once the first word is out, Anakin can’t stop anymore. He feels delirious. Completely out of control. More than usual, which shouldn’t even be possible, and yet…</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Ruin me, Master. Break me. Wreck me. Do whatever you want to me. Master, please! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s head is spinning, and he feels like he can only breathe if he exhales one of those twisted, </span>
  <em>
    <span>disastrous</span>
  </em>
  <span> words he has been dreaming of speaking ever since he was first brought to the Temple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No innocence.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darkness wearing a form of a little boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darkness pretending to be a child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Darkness begging its beloved Jedi…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at me, Master! I’m all yours. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahh</span>
  </em>
  <span>– I’m on my knees before you. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole world</span>
  </em>
  <span> is on its knees before you. Please…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you look good like that,” the Jedi murmurs with a chuckle, letting go of Anakin’s messy curls. “So does the world.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master’s voice is low and dark – silk and velvet sliding against Anakin’s feverish skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ahh, Master, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Anakin catches the Jedi’s hand and fuses his lips to the palm, leaving a bloody smear. A stain on something that is supposed to be unblemished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sin corrupting something holy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s all </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Anakin Skywalker. A Sith apprentice to his Jedi Master.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t deserve him. He is not worthy of even this touch his Master is so graciously allowing him. And yet, he still craves more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Always more.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve given you everything, Master,” he begs, looking up into the Jedi’s eyes ingratiatingly. “Please give me at least something. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The plea is out of Anakin’s mouth before he can stop it, and he gasps at his own </span>
  <em>
    <span>audacity</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there is no going back now: his shameless words have already poured out like beads from a torn string.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lust-lust-lust-lust,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they clatter as they scatter all around Anakin, but he barely hears them over his own heaving breaths and the thunder of his stupid heart trying to break out of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. Way. Back. Beg. Him. Beg. Him. Now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, terrified, Anakin hears his own voice, hoarse and breathless with desire, coax:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sink into my Darkness, Master. I will soothe you. I will calm you down. I will be your new serenity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan stares at the boy for a moment, and then laughs. Genuinely. Almost happily. At his silly, naïve Padawan promising peace to his War. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peace</span>
  </em>
  <span> – when all he knows, all he</span>
  <em>
    <span> is</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is pure passion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have any idea what you are saying, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, knowing for a fact that he doesn’t. “Do you even know what you are offering me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Master.” He is flushed, panting, stars in his eyes. He doesn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He is willing to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Foolish and desperate. It is a good look on him too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what do you think is going to happen?” Obi-Wan raises an amused eyebrow, already envisioning the flustered trainwreck Anakin will be in just a second, trying to ask Obi-Wan to hold his hand and kiss him on the lips </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh-so-sweetly. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Because that’s how he pictures it, isn’t it? He expects his Master to be as kind and gentle as he has always been. Well, until recently, anyway. Until Anakin took the fine kyber crystal channeling his serenity and </span>
  <em>
    <span>bled</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, thinking that he could replace it with his passion without Obi-Wan ever noticing...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naïve and stupid. A combination that never fails to draw Obi-Wan’s attention, like a smell of blood reaching a predator’s senses. Making his mouth water with anticipation of soft, warm flesh under his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure you can even imagine the things I’m gonna do to you, little Ani,” he purrs, baring his canines in a feral smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Anakin’s eyes snap up at him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry </span>
  </em>
  <span>instead of scared, and, peering from under his lashes, he holds Obi-Wan’s twinkling gaze. And his voice doesn’t shake, doesn’t falter with fear or embarrassment as he speaks, “You are going to grab me, Master. Hold me down, push inside me and make me </span>
  <em>
    <span>take it</span>
  </em>
  <span> like a good boy.”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master,” he exhales his promise, the two golden suns of his eyes eclipsed with the dark shadows of arousal. “I’ll be screaming your name and begging you to go faster. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harder</span>
  </em>
  <span>. To use me for your pleasure, Master…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan is left speechless for a moment, staring at his Padawan in astonishment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The little shit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sweet and naïve, huh?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, that’s how </span>
  <em>
    <span>Obi-Wan</span>
  </em>
  <span> has always wanted him to be. But he never was, was he? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sounds like he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he is talking about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how exactly do you know all that, darling?” Having swallowed a mouthful of saliva, Obi-Wan finally finds his voice, and if it comes out a little hoarse – </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh well...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw something like that in my dream once, Master,” Anakin confesses, biting his lower lip in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sinful </span>
  </em>
  <span>way. “A vision of the future. And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> my visions are true. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> happen. Maybe not today, but…it </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A very bold assumption. But the boy seems absolutely convinced, not a single doubt in his voice, and yet again, Obi-Wan has nothing to say to that. He needs to think about it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Right kriffing now. But as though feeling that his fate is at stake and knowing full well that nothing is more alluring to Obi-Wan than words, Anakin keeps talking – a murmuring ocean washing and polishing Obi-Wan’s sharp edges like colorful sea glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Words made up into an intricate mosaic – this is their endless conversation. A word game for those who don’t need words to understand one another. Yet they are still playing, mesmerized by each other and unable to stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were so angry with me, Master. I must have been a brat earlier that day. And I had ruined your negotiations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy looks apologetic even though, technically, he hasn’t actually done anything yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you were disappointed, Master. You said I was only good for one thing. And you called me a</span>
  <em>
    <span> stupid little slut</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan lifts his eyebrows incredulously. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> sound like something he would say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you liked that, Anakin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Master.” The boy nods enthusiastically, licking his lips. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But…” Obi-Wan is struggling to wrap his mind around it all. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Anakin says with emphasis, drawing forward a little in his eagerness. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be. For you, Master.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers clutch at the silk of Obi-Wan’s skirts pooling around his feet in a desperate attempt to control his desire, and Obi-Wan’s blood boils with dark satisfaction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, Anakin is not as innocent as Obi-Wan has always pictured him to be in a frankly </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculous</span>
  </em>
  <span> attempt to convince himself to stay away. And no, he doesn’t need Obi-Wan to always be nice and sweet after all. The boy can handle him being rough too. He proved it to Obi-Wan on Korriban once. And today he’s done it again: Anakin Skywalker is a big boy now – he doesn’t need to be coddled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to be his Master’s obedient little slut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan yanks his skirts up and away from under Anakin’s fingers and lifts his foot, pressing it against the boy’s chest and pushing him away – to fall backwards, onto his back and elbows, sprawled before Obi-Wan’s hungry gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then get on with it, Padawan. Be what you want to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin tumbles backwards with a loud gasp, not quite believing his own ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surely, his Master didn’t mean that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not seriously. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would never tolerate such obscenity, would he? No, he must be just teasing him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surely, he–</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Undress.” The sharp order tears Anakin out of his whirlwind of thoughts, and he stares up at the Jedi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must have misheard again, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his Master lifts his eyebrow expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take off those Jedi robes, little Sith. Lie bare before me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a long moment before the words have actually registered in Anakin’s confused brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master is really going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> fuck him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought alone is enough to paralyze Anakin with sudden electric pleasure running through his veins. And all he can do is moan, loud and shameless, tipping his head back onto the white marble of the floor as he shudders with the aftershocks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers fumble with his clothes, tugging and tearing at them, clumsy with urgency and desperation under his Master’s intense gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like an eternity to Anakin, but then, at last, he is splayed out on the pile of his dark robes on the floor before his Master’s throne. Naked. Flushed. Trembling. Feeling his Master’s scalding gaze with his bare skin and lying absolutely, deliciously </span>
  <em>
    <span>helpless</span>
  </em>
  <span> under it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please fuck me, Master…” he whispers, fisting his quivering fingers into the black fabric spilled all around him and writhing in restless anticipation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master! I want it so much. I’m begging you! Please fuck me! Make me come on your cock!” he whines, even though he knows he’s going to come the very moment his Master so much as presses his palm to his naked skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frankly, he is surprised he hasn’t already: he is so kriffing </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard and wet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, leaking all over himself, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So badly. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But he can’t. He shouldn’t. Not without his Master’s permission.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mah-ster…” his voice catches on a pathetic mewl. “I want… I need… It </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Please,</span>
  <em>
    <span> please</span>
  </em>
  <span> may I touch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” His Master shakes his head with a satisfied smile, not even moving to get up from the throne and help. He seems to be enjoying Anakin’s suffering. “You need some control, my incorrigible apprentice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you restrain me then, Master?” Anakin begs, naïve and hopeful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Anakin,” the Jedi shakes his head again, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> will restrain </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourself.</span>
  </em>
  <span> For once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin wails. Arches his back and cries out, as if in pain, the burning lava of arousal engulfing his body and soul.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and his Master won’t do anything but watch him fall apart, the usual gracious smile on his lips as he gazes upon the quivering mess of his Padawan before him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you like this, Master?” Anakin whines like a petulant child. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “How can you be so kind and cruel at the same time?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my darling…” The Jedi chuckles, smiling down at Anakin almost fondly. “Don’t you get it yet? I am just the way you want me to be.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am just how you imagine me to be, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Light dragon’s voice echoes in Anakin’s head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>How do you want me to call you? I will give you a name. Come to me…</em>
  </b>
  <span> Anakin’s own Darkness joins in, rustling with the words Anakin used to pour into the Force every minute of every day as a child, in foolish hope to lure his Master closer in and trap him forever by his side with at least guilt and duty if not love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he was just an untrained child back then. He couldn’t even actually reach the Force properly. His Master couldn’t possibly hear his silly prayers, could he? Surely not.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Surely</span>
  </em>
  <span>–</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One minute soft and gentle, the next – cold and harsh,” the Jedi nods in confirmation, as if having read Anakin’s thoughts. “All because you can never make up your mind, little Ani.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Anakin growls in frustration, squeezing his eyes shut, the crimson flush of humiliation at his own stupidity spilling all over his cheeks and creeping down his neck and chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How</span>
  </em>
  <span> did he not see it before?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted his Master to be kind and affectionate – and he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted the best warrior in the Order to pretend like he needed his stupid Padawan’s protection – and he humored him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted his Jedi Master to play a Sith Lord, guiding him through the ways of the Dark Side – and he obliged, however reluctantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rejected his Master’s infinite mercy, he threw it into his face, demanding pain and punishment instead, while secretly hoping for a glimpse of passion – and the Jedi gave it to him, no matter how it pained him to do so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin pushed him to rebel against the Jedi Order and everything he held sacred, he forced the crown of the Empire onto his head – the weight of the world onto his shoulders – and his Master took it all. For him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, here he is. Still demanding </span>
  <em>
    <span>more.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Asking to be a lover when all he does is act like an enemy. And, </span>
  <em>
    <span>despite everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his Master is being indulgent with him again, softly shining from withing with his infinite mercy, while Anakin is still behaving like a spoiled brat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master,” Anakin mewls in distress. “Forgive me! Punish me! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still cannot make the simplest choice, I see.” The Jedi laughs softly, sending a wave of tingling warmth all over Anakin’s bare skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want choices, Master,” Anakin whines childishly, the habit so ingrained into his core that he is unable to shake it. “I need </span>
  <em>
    <span>orders</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Please…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well then, Padawan,” his Master concedes, the blue of his eyes suddenly dark and stormy, and thunder rumbles on the edges of his voice. “Your choices are now mine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And instantly Anakin knows he probably shouldn’t have said that. Should have chosen his words more carefully instead of giving up his freedom so lightly. But it’s been useless to him so far, bringing him nothing but trouble, and besides, it’s too late anyway: he can already feel something being torn and yanked away from the core of his Force Signature as his Master reaches forward, grabbing a fistful of air and pulling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is that how it feels when you sell your soul to the Devil?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Good riddance then.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although Anakin didn’t actually think the process would be so</span>
  <em>
    <span> literal.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He peers up from under his lashes in wonder, and only belatedly realizes that his Master has done nothing but simply pull at his Darkness, dragging its cover off Anakin and exposing his soul. Making it lie as bare before him as Anakin’s body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin whimpers, feeling utterly helpless – </span>
  <em>
    <span>vulnerable </span>
  </em>
  <span>like never before – as the open wound of his core gets uncovered. An </span>
  <em>
    <span>Obi-Wan Kenobi</span>
  </em>
  <span> shaped hole in his chest. Bleeding misery and loneliness into the Force. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Heal me, Master! Make me whole again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take me, Master!” Anakin begs instead, writhing with impatience and wantonly spreading his legs like a cheap whore form the lower levels of Coruscant. “Make me scream.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi hums, as if contemplating something, and Anakin’s Darkness – now </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> – clings to his hand, swirling around it in a tangle of silky bands.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Master, please! I’ll be </span><em><span>so</span></em> <em><span>good</span></em><span>… So tight around you…” Anakin coaxes breathlessly, having completely forgotten what shame even is and openly trying to seduce his Master with those words he adores so much. “Don’t you want to push inside me? Make me moan? Make me beg for more? Don’t you, Master? Doesn’t it turn you on to know I’ll do </span><em><span>anything</span></em><span> just to please you?” </span></p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe it doesn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because no matter how Anakin writhes and whines, his Master seems unaffected. Almost serene again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kriff.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin feels ready to just curl up on his side and cry until he dies when, suddenly, the silky bands unfurl around his Master’s hand and snake through the air towards him, wrapping around his wrists and fixing them firmly to the floor on both sides of his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Anakin chokes on his moan when one of the black strips loops around his arched neck, obedient to his Master’s will.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anakin’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>Darkness, so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span>, does it count as restraining</span>
  <em>
    <span> himself?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Master,” Anakin moans, tugging at the silky bands and straining against their hold to make sure it’s secure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nngh…” Anakin’s lips part obscenely around a loud keening sound as he feels the collar of Darkness sliding softly in a loop around his neck. A caress and a warning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be good, Master…” Anakin promises breathlessly. “I’ll be good. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> you will be,” his Master murmurs softly in agreement. “Such a stupid little Sith slut begging for your Jedi’s cock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scalding hot, the words pour into Anakin’s ears and claw out of his throat in a scream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He buckles from the floor in an impossible arch, straining against his Darkness’s hold, as he comes all over his stomach and chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just like that.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Just a few words are all it takes for him to unravel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somewhere far, on the blurred edges of his consciousness, he vaguely feels the ground shaking under his limp body, in perfect sync with the aftershocks of his release.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sirens blare out somewhere down in the city. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Calm yourself, Padawan,” his Master’s voice orders, dripping with the unspoken reprimand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Master,” Anakin pants, his chest heaving with his erratic breaths, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to calm down. Ever again. But over the chaos of his deafeningly thumping heart, Anakin hears his Master’s displeasure in the Force.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You disobedient little shit. Whatever happened to asking for my permission? I don’t remember telling you you could come whenever you wanted. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin stops breathing altogether.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Master,” he whispers barely audibly, his eyes wide with terror and his body quivering. “Sorry, Master.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh well,” the Jedi lets out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his forehead with a tired gesture, “I guess I’m going to have to teach you </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> too, my Padawan.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>What else was he even expecting, really?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> the boy would come without so much as a single touch. Just from Obi-Wan’s slightly lowered voice talking to him. That’s how he’s trained him to be after all, showing the boy that his Master’s voice can be both the sweetest honey and the deadliest poison. And for Anakin, there isn’t even the slightest difference: no matter what Obi-Wan says, his words instantly melt into liquid pleasure against Anakin’s burning aura.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want your words, Master. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to hear your voice.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, he could probably talk his poor apprentice into an orgasm just by reciting the Jedi Code. Speaking of which… </span>
  <em>
    <span>So broken.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan internally cringes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anyone else in his place would have the Sith eyes by now. But Darkness simply doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> touch him, too afraid of his Light. Too preoccupied with torturing its own human vessel at Obi-Wan’s command.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A slight tilt of Obi-Wan’s head – and the boy is unceremoniously flipped onto his stomach, Obi-Wan’s Force touch pushing his thighs apart and yanking his hips up, so that his ass is in the air, presented to Obi-Wan in the most indecent, </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span> way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Master! Ahh- Mhhm…” Anakin gasps and moans, his voice muffled by the fabric of his dark robes his face is being pressed down into, as his own sleek, fluid Darkness pools between his ass cheeks, pushing inside him, eager to open him up and prepare him for his patiently observing Master.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master! Ah-ahh… Master! Master…” the boy chants, over and over again, writhing in his agony at Obi-Wan’s feet, trying futilely to push back and impale himself on the Force’s lewd touch, almost sobbing with frustration as his wet, stretched hole clenches around the rough intrusion, dripping obscenely with the glistening Darkness. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I want your </span>
  <em>
    <span>cock.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Please, Master! I need your cock– </span>
  <em>
    <span>ahh!</span>
  </em>
  <span> In me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I want– I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>too. Wants to push into Anakin’s pliant body in front of him, wants to sink into his hot, pulsating Darkness in the Force – let Anakin’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire being</span>
  </em>
  <span> wrap around him, tight and wet. Bringing passion. Bringing serenity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That cosmic balance he is looking for is inside Anakin Skywalker. And Obi-Wan </span>
  <em>
    <span>craves</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Badly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His knuckles are white on the armrests of his black throne from the force of his grip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Restraining Anakin is easy. Restraining himself – much harder. Almost impossible with the boy choking on his moans and pleas at his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is virtually screaming now, hard and desperate again. His need is crashing against Obi-Wan’s shields like tidal waves, and in the end, not even Obi-Wan’s obsidian rock will stand against the roaring ocean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ah-ah-</span>
  <em>
    <span>ahh</span>
  </em>
  <span>… I need you </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside</span>
  </em>
  <span> me. Please!” the boy sobs out, barely coherent. “I’m so empty… Fill me up. Fill me up, Master…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Empty.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, that’s what Anakin Skywalker has always been. Always wanted to stuff himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>full</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Obi-Wan. Wanted his Mater to fill him up in every way possible. Fill his holes. The one that is so stretched around his Force touch now. And the one in his chest – that black hole greedy for Obi-Wan’s essence to push inside and pour out in hot, liquid Light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Come to me. I will swallow you whole.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s Darkness coaxes, after all these years – just the same, its hungry gaze never leaving Obi-Wan. Wishing to </span>
  <em>
    <span>devour</span>
  </em>
  <span> him like a starving beast. And just like that first time Obi-Wan heard its call, he can’t help but follow – his own beast baring its fangs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here, Ani.” Obi-Wan extends his hand to the boy with a sly smile, releasing him from his restraints. “Sit on my lap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fall into my trap. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin is too delirious to actually understand his Master’s words – lust-drunk and disoriented like he is coming out of a fever dream – but the leash of their Force Bond yanks him up and towards the throne, and Anakin scrambles to obey. Having hastily wiped the mess off his chest and abdomen with his tunic, he crawls on his wobbly hands and knees, looking up at his Master and Emperor with breathless reverence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dark crown is glimmering on his graciously inclined head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The starlight trapped inside it pulsating like a heartbeat under the translucent, glassy blackness. A reminder of how fragile this little balance is: quicksilver under brittle glass. One clumsy move – and it will spill out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Careful, Anakin.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s hands are shaking when they slide up along his Master’s legs, pulling the silk of his robes up with their slow, careful movement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master chuckles softly, pushing Anakin’s hands away and opening his own leggings to pull himself out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s eyes go round, and he forgets how to breathe entirely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Force! It’s so big...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi huffs out a laugh, and only then Anakin realizes he has actually said that out loud. His cheeks are instantly aflame, and he thanks the Force that, at least, he hasn’t voiced he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>right all along</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his assumption of why his Master always sits with his thighs spread so wide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so kriffing big!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin can’t look away, mesmerized by the sight and his mouth watering like crazy from being so close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He licks his lips, and his mouth hangs open, begging to be filled, as he looks up at this Master with the most imploring gaze he can muster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The need to please him – to lick and kiss and caress his whole body – is almost unbearable. But the Jedi is still fully dressed, still wearing his pristinely white robes. Only his cock is poking out of the gap in his leggings, but otherwise, he is still all covered up while Anakin himself is as exposed and vulnerable as a person can possibly get.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And what would all those great ancient Lords of the Sith say if they could see their only heir right now – kneeling between a Jedi’s legs, naked and desperate, ass in the air and begging to be fucked full of his Master’s dick?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Force, he can imagine what he must look like. Like a total...</span>
</p>
<p><b><em>Slut</em></b><span>,</span> <span>the Darkness chimes in helpfully, its voice humming around Anakin with approval, and an involuntary smile tugs at the corners of Anakin’s lips.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, please… May I? Please, Master…” Anakin rasps out, almost choking on his saliva, and panting wetly less than an inch away from his Master’s impressive length as he looks up from under his fluttering lashes. Flushed, and sweaty, and utterly debauched, even though his Master hasn’t so much as touched him once – he is on the verge of coming again, just from the way his Master is looking down at him, watching his every move, as if unable to tear his gaze away. And that gaze is absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>intoxicating. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pure alcohol in Anakin’s veins. The fire burning under his skin. A punishment and a caress all at once. And Anakin isn’t sure how much longer he can take it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Will you kiss me, Master? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wonders hopefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you choke me, Master?” he breathes out instead. He needs to be a little more realistic, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy might be looking down and away now, pretending to be embarrassed by his own words, but the bashful pink spreading over his cheeks is not fooling Obi-Wan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses two fingers under the boy’s chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyelashes matted with unshed tears, he looks ruined. He looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Soft, and disheveled, and still a little naïve – everything Obi-Wan is not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Devil because Anakin Skywalker looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>possessed </span>
  </em>
  <span>– kneeling naked and helpless between Obi-Wan’s spread thighs, his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze fixed on the floor, while his Force presence is a stellar flare around him, reaching Obi-Wan’s atmosphere and scattering against it in bright auroras.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Take me. Use me. Hurt me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He isn’t even asking for </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore, probably still convinced that Obi-Wan won’t give it undeserved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How bad is he at showing his feelings if even after everything they’ve been through, his Padawan still thinks that his Master’s love for him isn’t unconditional? That he must buy it? Or earn it? Or coax it out of him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh well…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The children of the Force. They are both terrible at being human, aren’t they? But somehow, Obi-Wan is failing even more spectacularly than his walking disaster of a Padawan. And that is exactly the reason why together – they no less than are a cosmic cataclysmic event. Something that could be easily avoided though – if only Obi-Wan, in his glass case of serenity, didn’t secretly crave </span>
  <em>
    <span>chaos</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again. He did it </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, many years ago. Negotiated war instead of peace. And that war is raging inside his poor Padawan still. And he dies on its battlefields every day. Fighting for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Bleeding for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Only to realize, in the very last moment, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the enemy. But it’s already too late, and Obi-Wan’s merciless blade already pierces his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Die, Anakin.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a second, the vision of Anakin’s bloodied lips screaming </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hate you</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his death agony too vivid before his mental gaze. And even more painful to watch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s Obi-Wan’s own doing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cruelty disguised as kindness. Pain under the cover of pleasure. That’s what he is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is the one who needs to be contained, yet it’s the boy at his feet whose hands are being slowly bound behind his back, the slick ropes of Darkness winding around his wrists and arms in elaborate knotwork.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is vulnerable and helpless like that, completely at Obi-Wan’s mercy, and, for some unfathomable reason, his Force Signature is radiating nothing but incandescent joy. Pulsating with excitement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you. I love you. I love you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like a heartbeat, thumping in the Force, while Anakin cries and moans out broken pleas – to be fucked, to be used for Obi-Wan’s pleasure – with a fragile, keening need in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan fists his hand in the boy’s hair and pulls back until his neck is straining, forcing him to look at him with those starry eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are such a good boy for me, Ani,” he whispers almost reverently. “You bring me so much joy, dear one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the moan the boy emits when Obi-Wan presses his lips to his damp forehead sounds almost like he is dying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan’s hand tangles in his curls, and he pushes Anakin’s face towards his crotch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now bring me pleasure, Padawan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Anakin does. He just </span>
  <em>
    <span>swallows</span>
  </em>
  <span> his dick – takes it all in in one fluid motion, his lips stretching obscenely around the girth as he pushes down farther, gurgling when it hits his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh, darling…” Obi-Wan tries to caution him to go slow, but all he manages is a breathless sigh and his hand clenching in Anakin’s hair even tighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy moans, his voice vibrating around Obi-Wan in his throat, and Obi-Wan chokes on his pleasure as his Padawan chokes himself on his cock. Over and over again, with obscene wet sounds and wanton slurps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan throws his head back against his Dark throne, feeling drunk and dizzy with passion. It’s so overwhelmingly strong he’s not even sure it’s entirely his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Force around him is thrumming with sheer delight, flooded with Anakin’s joy at being finally used for his beloved Master’s pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Such a good little boy toy, dear,” Obi-Wan praises, petting Anakin’s hair and shoving his dick deeper into his mouth with rough, unrestrained movements of his hips. “Taking it so well… I’ve always known you would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s eyes roll back in his head with the ecstasy Obi-Wan’s words are sending right into his core, and he swallows, swallows, drooling around Obi-Wan’s dick with little whimpers of pleasure every time it hits his throat and almost chokes him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at you, Padawan…” Obi-Wan marvels, brushing Anakin’s sweaty curls from his forehead and wondering how his little virgin Padawan is managing so well for his first time. “The Darkness wasn’t lying. You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this. A little Sith slut made to suck your Jedi Master’s cock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! Yes, Master! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Anakin groans hoarsely when Obi-Wan tugs at his hair, pulling him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Master! I’m begging you! Please, let me…” The boy twists and writhes in Obi-Wan’s grip, uselessly trying to wriggle out of it and get his mouth around Obi-Wan’s cock again. “I want to suck you off </span>
  <em>
    <span>so badly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I want your come in my mouth… All over my face… Master, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, Ani.” Obi-Wan chuckles as he lets go of Anakin’s curls and slips his hand around his throat instead, making him stand up. “The whole Galaxy probably knows by now. With how you are shouting about it in the Force, my dear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Master, I’m sorry…” The boy’s eyes go wide with terror for a second, but Obi-Wan doesn’t let him dwell on that thought, grabbing his hips and pulling him down to straddle his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t mind, darling,” Obi-Wan reassures the boy with a wry smile, letting his palms slide down to his Padawan’s perfect, delicious ass. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeeze</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Let the whole Empire know that Anakin Skywalker, the terrifying, merciless Sith they all fear so much, is nothing but the Emperor’s dirty little whore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy blushes so vigorously that his eyes tear up, and Obi-Wan smacks his ass cheek, making him almost yelp in surprise and grind against Obi-Wan’s bare cock as he almost loses his balance, with his hands bound behind his back and no other way to stay upright but trusting Obi-Wan to hold him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not a whore,” he protests breathlessly and immediately contradicts himself, shamelessly pushing himself down and trying to get Obi-Wan’s cock to slide between his ass cheeks as he declares proudly, “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord Consort</span>
  </em>
  <span> of your Imperial Majesty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> knows that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that so?” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow in amusement, watching the boy squirm on his lap, nervous and pretty, impatient to get fucked full of his Master’s cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! Yes, My Lord Emperor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is a very important position, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your Highness</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Obi-Wan draws out, moving to press himself against the boy’s entrance with a deliberately slow motion. “Are you sure you are ready for it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin doesn’t answer that – he slams his hips down, impaling himself on his Master’s cock and tearing a surprised gasp out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A scream of pain and pleasure claws out of Anakin’s own throat and reverberates through the Force as his spine arches, his head thrown back and his body straining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ani!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” his Master breathes out shakily, his fingers digging into Anakin’s hips with a bruising grip. “What are you doing? I don’t want to hurt you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, Master,” Anakin moans, wanton and uninhibited, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth digging hard into his bottom lip, as tries to push himself down, forcing his Master’s dick inside himself even deeper, despite the Jedi’s restraining hold on his hips. “It’s okay. I want you to. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to, Master…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, dear one. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” his Master’s gentle voice tries to convince him somewhere on the edge of Anakin’s consciousness, but he is already too overwhelmed with pleasure to produce a single coherent thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He mewls, and whines, and moans, and screams, his mouth hanging open and his whole body arching beautifully on his Master’s lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t care what he sounds like anymore. He can’t work up a single shred of shame to stop himself from frantically trying to push down onto his Master’s dick or, at least, cease to repeat “Please, please, fuck me, fuck me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master! Please, please...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every nerve in his body is glowing, hot red with the mind-blowing pleasure of the sensation and the feeling of being completely and utterly at his Master’s mercy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of control. Out of his mind. Unable to do anything but beg his Master to indulge him like he always does…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not this time though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t listen to Anakin. Doesn’t heed his pleas. Doesn’t move inside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why would he? If Anakin is being such a disobedient little shit again instead of a good boy his Master wants him to be?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears spill onto Anakin’s flushed cheeks at the terrible realization, and he almost dies, having to force the frantic movement of his hips to an abrupt stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, I’m sorry…” he sobs out pathetically, hiding his tear-stained face in the crook of the Jedi’s neck. “I shouldn’t have done anything without permission. I’m such a bad Padawan. You should punish me, Master.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi sighs, and even though Anakin can’t see his face, he knows for a fact – can practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> – that his Master is rolling his eyes, begging the Force for patience. Then he chuckles somewhere into Anakin’s tousled curls, “I think you’re managing it just fine yourself, my dear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Force!</span>
  </em>
  <span> The boy is so kriffing </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span> Obi-Wan sometimes wonders how he is even still alive. A total himbo all around. But he is so hot and tight around him right now that Obi-Wan finds it really hard to care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes exactly his </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire</span>
  </em>
  <span> self-control not to slam inside his Padawan’s ass right now, allowing him some time to get used to the stretch instead. He doesn’t want to break him, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not like that, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood has already spilled under Anakin’s skin where Obi-Wan’s fingers are digging into his hips, forming an intricate pattern of bruises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan always ends up hurting him even when he doesn’t mean to, huh?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>So good</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” the boy whines hotly against his throat, as if having read Obi-Wan’s mind and purposefully contradicting him. “You feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>so good</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside me, Master.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hot, wet exhale burns Obi-Wan’s neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel good, Master? Can you feel how tight I am around you? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>– So stretched on your big dick I can barely breathe… Do you like it, Master? Do you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy is whispering fervently, panting so hard Obi-Wan is afraid he might pass out from exertion. And Obi-Wan knows he is being </span>
  <em>
    <span>genuine</span>
  </em>
  <span> – not just trying to talk dirty to him. He would never, not in a million years, pull </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> off if he tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, all these filthy, obscene, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> words are Anakin’s pure lust spilling out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ani,” Obi-Wan assures him, peppering kisses all over his prettily flushed cheeks and carding his fingers through his disheveled locks as he starts rocking into him gently. “Absolutely perfect for me, my sweet, darling boy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Master</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Anakin cries out, throwing his head back and leaking pre-come all over himself, and Obi-Wan takes it as an invitation to fuse his lips to his vulnerably bared throat and kiss up and down its column until there is not a single inch left that won’t bruise by tomorrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin is almost hysterical, helplessly wriggling and squirming on his lap with a mouthful of sighs and pleas, by the time Obi-Wan finally decides to have mercy and </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>fuck him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He locks his teeth into the side of the boy’s neck, hard enough to almost draw blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he growls his claim, and Anakin buckles up so hard against him that Obi-Wan barely manages to catch him and not let him fall off his lap. “We are meant to be like this, Ani. You are meant to be mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Again! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master!” Anakin sobs out deliriously, his pupils blown impossibly wide as he continues to ride Obi-Wan, their eyes locked. “Please, say that again!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is absolutely, impossibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that – balancing on the razor-sharp edge between </span>
  <em>
    <span>blissfully fucked out</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>achingly desperate</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he is all </span>
  <em>
    <span>his.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin Skywalker of Obi-Wan Kenobi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His perfect Padawan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mine, mine, mine…” Obi-Wan chants, his voice rough, thrusting into the boy’s heavenly tightness so hard that it almost sends him tumbling down onto the floor with every upward movement of Obi-Wan’s hips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah-ah-ah… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yours!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Only yours, Master!” Anakin echoes, his voice strangled and coming in short, punched-out hitches. “Love you. Love you. Love you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And every word is undoing Obi-Wan, just a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is exactly why the Jedi are not allowed to have possessions. Not supposed to call anything – let alone </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> – theirs. Because the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span> is intoxicating. It always sounds too good, tastes too delicious, rolls off too smoothly from one’s lips. It is a curse. And Obi-Wan has just – so stupidly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupidly</span>
  </em>
  <span> – cursed them both. Simply because it feels absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>indescribable</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have Anakin, so soft and achingly needy, fall apart in his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So yes, maybe they are </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid. What does it matter now anyway?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t, and Obi-Wan slides his hand up Anakin’s torso, over his abs and chest, and to his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s hips immediately stutter to a halt, and he goes very still. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan can feel him swallow – </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> – under his palm when he wraps his fingers tightly around his throat and squeezes, just a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Obi-Wan</span>
  </em>
  <span>...” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of his name whispered reverently, like a frantic prayer, falls from Anakin’s lips for the first time Obi-Wan can remember, and it pierces Obi-Wan’s entire being – from the point where he can feel the word vibrating in the boy’s throat to his own melting, disintegrating core. But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter – he keeps fucking Anakin roughly, relentlessly, keeping his hand tight around his throat and staring unblinkingly at the two yellow coronas around the black holes of the boy’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Such a good little Sith boy for me, Ani. So perfect… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obedient to Obi-Wan’s command, the ropes of Darkness dissipate into black smoke around the boy’s wrists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Push me away if you want. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fight me if you can</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An illusion of freedom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the boy doesn’t even know the concept. Doesn’t struggle against the weight of Obi-Wan’s Force Signature pinning his own down. Doesn’t try to escape Obi-Wan’s merciless hold on him. And his hands never do anything but wrap around Obi-Wan, pulling him closer, keeping him </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t let me go, Master,” he gasps out into Obi-Wan’s lips, terrified at the prospect, his trembling fingers seeking purchase on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, determined to hold on for dear life. “Why are you pulling away again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why indeed, Obi-Wan?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t even know. It’s like an inborn reflex, perfected by years and years of doing just that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling away. Deflecting Anakin’s advances. Pushing him back and keeping him at arm’s length because every cell of his body – his entire luminous being – is constantly screaming at him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>beware</span>
  </em>
  <span> the foreign substance of Anakin’s Dark aura. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He is a poison in your veins. A traitor in your embrace. You are fated to be mortal enemies, Obi-Wan. The Light and the Dark – on opposite sides of the battlefield.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Light is right, of course. Their unholy union is an abomination. Cursed by the both Sides of the Force and forbidden. And maybe that’s why it is so sweet, so tempting and </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heat flares through Obi-Wan at the very thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Padawan</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he breathes out, the sacred word dirty on his lips, making Anakin’s back arch, his hands</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>scrambling at Obi-Wan’s shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, Master, Master…” he cries out with every thrust of Obi-Wan’s hips as he slams into him </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mercilessly. Relentlessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master. Master. Master.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Darkness splashes around Obi-Wan in black waves, hot and wet and </span>
  <em>
    <span>exquisite </span>
  </em>
  <span>against his rough, jagged shields. Polishing them. Smoothing them out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s hand curls gently around the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, moving up to thread through his hair and trace the sharp edges of his crown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah-ah! Mah–” Anakin chokes on his moan, his last shreds of coherence crumbling against Obi-Wan’s radiant power. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy bends down to him, pressing their foreheads together, his ragged breath hot and wet against Obi-Wan’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Allow me to wrap my Darkness around your Light, Master,” he begs, trembling in Obi-Wan’s arms. “Don’t let it be so bright that it burns me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, it seems to Obi-Wan that someone has turned the sound in the world down to the point where it became no more than just background static, nothing but their joined labored breathing to be heard, their chests shuddering with the force of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan groans and rams into the boy even harder, making him cry out, his head thrown back in total abandon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Anakin gasps, clutching at Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “Oh, Force...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan rocks into him harder and faster, watching the boy panting and gasping, his pink lips parted obscenely around his moans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Harder! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Please, Master! Fuck me harder! Break me! Make me take it! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Make me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Master! Please, please, fuck me! FUCK ME!” His fingers digging into Obi-Wan’s shoulders and his legs tightening around him, Anakin’s desperate begging grows into an all-out scream, and Obi-Wan cannot quite believe that he has this effect on the boy – that he can make him feel this way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Such wild, </span>
  <em>
    <span>unrestrained</span>
  </em>
  <span> passion, breaking down everything in its path. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> making you unravel like this, Ani.” Obi-Wan barely recognizes his own voice – so deep and raspy it has become. “Love making you incapable of doing anything, of thinking about anything. Anything but </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The boy in his arms in a picture of bliss mixed with tension: his mouth open in a silent cry and his breath whooshing in and out of his lungs in time with the uncontrollable jerks of his body, he is clawing at Obi-Wan’s shoulders, trying to draw him closer still. He is so wound up it seems to Obi-Wan he might burst and shatter to pieces on his lap unless Obi-Wan lets him come right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are trying so hard to be good for me, my dear. You always are,” Obi-Wan praises breathlessly, entranced by the two glistening wet tracks of tears running down Anakin’s burning cheeks. “And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> my joy, Ani. My passion. My serenity. My dear, sweet boy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then tell me you love me, Master,” Anakin sobs out, choking on his tears and struggling to breathe. His Darkness wails, as inconsolable around them as its vessel, clinging helplessly to Obi-Wan’s Light. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Liquid desperation.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me. Tell me. Tell me,” Anakin chants, bouncing on Obi-Wan’s cock in a fast, erratic rhythm. “Please, Master! Please, please!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dear one,” Obi-Wan smiles, carding his fingers through Anakin’s damp curls and drawing him closer to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Master!” Anakin lets out a broken sob, shaking his head fervently. “No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>say it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I want to hear you actually speak the words. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>you to</span>
  <em>
    <span> say </span>
  </em>
  <span>them, Master. Please…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s lips part obscenely, thirsty and begging Obi-Wan to pour in the words he desires so much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan feels his shields shuddering and cracking around him, under the vicious onslaught of Anakin’s passion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Light concentrates, piercing the boy’s Darkness like a spear, and the Darkness wraps around it, just like it has always wanted – clenches around it, hot and pulsating, in perfect sync with the way Anakin suddenly tightens around him, screaming out in ecstasy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come inside me, Master! Please!</span>
  <em>
    <span> I need…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he begs between his little mewls, contracting around Obi-Wan as he balances on the peak of his pleasure and pulling him along into that blissful nothingness. Making him delirious with pleasure and joy. Showing him serenity within passion, Light within Darkness. </span>
  <em>
    <span>In perfect, infinite balance.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan feels balanced too. And happy. Truly happy for the first time in his life. All because…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Ani.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Ani,” his Master whispers, pressing the words into Anakin’s parted lips with a rough, claiming kiss, and Anakin feels lightheaded – dizzy and delirious with the happiness bubbling joyfully in his chest, the Force around him rising in a glorious, triumphant melody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin collapses onto his Master’s chest, utterly wrung out and quiet – </span>
  <em>
    <span>pacified</span>
  </em>
  <span> – in the Force, just like his Master’s Light is. No longer sharp. No longer cold. But still magnificent in its might and beauty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master’s come dripping out of him and tears rolling down his cheeks from the emotional overload of being so impossibly tense for so long, Anakin mewls, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Master</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And in an instant, the Jedi has him gathered in his arms, rocking him gently and shushing him as he sobs, his palm stroking Anakin’s back in soothing circles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh, Ani,” his Master croons into his ear, peppering his cheek and temple with little kisses. “You are okay. You are doing so well, dear one. Such a good boy for me...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master, I–” Anakin struggles to draw some air into his lungs for a few moments, but, with chilling terror, he realizes that his uncontrollable sobs won’t let him. “I can’t breathe…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you can, Ani.” His Master’s calm, serene voice cuts into Anakin’s panic, just like it has done hundreds of times over the years. “Breathe for me, Padawan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Anakin does as he’s been told. Of course he does. He is a good boy for his Master. And Master loves him. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant </span>
  </em>
  <span>it this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, Ani.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words wash over Anakin in a gentle caress, echoing through the Force, and the bands of hysteria that have been constricting his chest – break and fall off, letting him breathe again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good boy, Ani,” his Master’s gentle voice croons with approval somewhere into Anakin’s neck, sending a wave of electric-sharp pleasure down his spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nghh...” Anakin’s fingers dig into his Master’s shoulders, almost tearing the finest white silk apart, then slide further up, to caress the nape of his neck and card through his auburn locks crowned with Darkness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin lowers his head a little, biting his lip, suddenly shy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you remember me, Master?” he whispers, not trusting his voice not to break, too heavy with the sudden emotion. “From our other lives?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi sighs, closing his eyes for a second, and Anakin presses his lips to his trembling eyelids. Softly. Reverently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, dear one. I’m starting to recall it all now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh…” Anakin’s eyes light up with bubbling excitement and curiosity. “And was I good for you, Master? How many times have we ended up like this? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lovers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His Master caresses his cheek, his finger tracing the outline of Anakin’s scar. Silent and pensive. Until Anakin catches his hand and presses a</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>worshipful kiss to his knuckles, his own fingers suddenly trembling in apprehension.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why did he ask?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He shouldn’t have asked…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not once,” the Jedi utters finally, shaking his head, his voice laced with regret. “You always tried. I always resisted. We were friends or enemies but never lovers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin’s heart sinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were never happy. Not once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He chooses you, every time, but in the end, you never give him anything but sorrow. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The Light dragon’s voice echoes in Anakin’s head mockingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But are you happy now, Master?” The question is barely audible as Anakin is too afraid to actually hear the answer. “Are you happy </span>
  <em>
    <span>with me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Will you keep me, Master?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, dear one.” The Jedi smiles at him with chest-tightening fondness, and his absolute incandescent </span>
  <em>
    <span>joy</span>
  </em>
  <span> spills around Anakin in the Force, gliding along his skin like strips of flowing silk, jubilantly crimson and golden. “My sadness wasn’t infinite after all.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please don't forget to read the EPILOGUE!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. EPILOGUE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There! One happy ending delivered as promised (even though nobody believed in it, lol)<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>A dark-clad silhouette glides over the white marble floor, treading lightly and soundlessly.</p>
<p>A black shadow, both mournful and ominous under the lacy veil of Darkness.</p>
<p>Except, the shadow doesn’t dissipate when it enters the sun-lit room – it steps out from the twilight of the corridor into the light-suffused chamber and, in one fluid motion, kneels before the luminous figure on the throne.</p>
<p>“Master.”</p>
<p>Anakin Skywalker’s eyes are glimmering with Sith gold under his black cowl, hungry and mesmerized, as they gaze upon Emperor Kenobi. “Mustafar has been destroyed, just as Your Majesty ordered.”</p>
<p>“Well done, dear one.” The Emperor smiles, inclining his head graciously and beckoning his apprentice closer.</p>
<p>“Now come to me. Stand beside me.”</p>
<p>Anakin Skywalker’s own words – the ones he has been whispering in the Force for as long as he can remember – are calling for <em>him</em> now, falling from his Master’s lips and wrapping around him like a shimmering veil of starlight.</p>
<p>And Anakin Skywalker moves to stand in the shadow of his Master’s throne, a step behind, <em>where he belongs</em>, melting into its Darkness with a shaky exhale of relief.</p>
<p>An apprentice and a guardian.</p>
<p>A friend and a lover.</p>
<p><em> Everything </em> he’s ever wanted to be.</p>
<p>And the stained-glass window depicting the battle of two mortal enemies <em>bursts </em>into myriads of colorful pieces swirling slowly in the air around Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi like a shattered rainbow, suspended by the touch of the Force as it swells around its children, singing for them – a joyful, triumphant anthem to honor their union.</p>
<p>And they stare up for a second, mesmerized by that intricate dance of color and light, and then they laugh – careless and happy – as their fingers interlace on the armrest of the throne.</p>
<p>The war is over.</p>
<p><em> Their </em>war is over.</p>
<p>And the shards clink softly as they gather back together, making up a new picture.</p>
<p>A Jedi and a Sith with their blades lowered, two halos – of Light and Darkness – shining around their heads.</p>
<p>The Master and his apprentice – a new dawn rising above their joined hands.</p>
<p>The two of them <em>in perfect, beautiful balance.</em></p>
<p>And the Light is streaming through the glass, <em>soft</em> and <em>warm</em> again, painting them both in golden hues.</p>
<p>And just as promised, the Darkness recedes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for staying on this ride with me until the end, you guys!</p>
<p>It was a long-ass slowburn, so I hope the ending was satisfying and worth the wait. I’d really hate for my work to end up like Supernatural, lol</p>
<p>This work took me a whole year to finish (and now I honestly don’t know what to do with myself, lol). I wouldn’t have done it without my readers’ support &lt;3<br/>If you enjoyed my fic and still have something to say, please leave a comment (even if it’s just a keysmash) or come talk to me on my tumblr:<br/><a href="https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com">https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Also, if anyone is interested, I’m gonna put the list of Easter Eggs in another chapter because it's too long to fit in the the End Notes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Easter Eggs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed all the Easter Eggs I’ve put into this fic.</p>
<p>If you are interested, here is the list (see if you have found them all!):</p>
<p> </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<ol>
<li>There were some <strong>direct quotes</strong> from the movies and <em>The Clone Wars</em> and <em>Star Wars Rebels</em>:</li>
</ol>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you an angel?” [Chapter 2].</p>
<p>Yoda and Obi-Wan’s conversation about Anakin [Chapter 2].</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s warning to the remaining Jedi [Chapter 27].</p>
<p>“The Council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi, I promise.” [Chapter 2, Chapter 13].</p>
<p>“I’m not the Jedi I should be.” [Chapter 11].</p>
<p>“Aggressive negotiations.” [Chapter 13].</p>
<p>A devastating warrior who’d rather not fight. [Chapter 20].</p>
<p>“This weapon is your life!" [Chapter 22].</p>
<p>“How did this happen? I thought we were smarter than this.”</p>
<p>“Apparently not.” [Chapter 28].</p>
<p><em>So</em> <em>uncivilized</em>. [Chapter 25].</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And, of course, the iconic:  </p>
<p>“I love you.”</p>
<p>“I know.” [Chapter 25].</p>
<p> </p>
<ol>
<li><strong>The slightly changed quotes:</strong></li>
</ol>
<p> </p>
<p>Jedi don’t have dreams. They have visions. [Chapter 17] as in <em>“Jedi don’t have nightmares,” came the defiant reply.</em>[R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]</p>
<p>“The Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, not generals.” [Chapter 20] as in Satine Kryze’s “<em>I remember a time when Jedi were not generals, but peacekeepers.</em>”</p>
<p>Ever since Obi-Wan has known Anakin, he has been playing with droids. He used to put them together – now he only takes them apart [Chapter 22] as in</p>
<p>Padmé Amidala:<em> Ever since I've known you, you've been playing with droids. </em></p>
<p>Anakin Skywalker:<em> I used to put them together. Now I only take them apart.</em></p>
<p>[Star Wars: The Clone Wars – Season 1 Episode 4: ‘Destroy Malevolence’]</p>
<p>Obi-Wan takes a step forward, his hand reaching out, as if to stop his Padawan. “Don’t do it, Anakin! It’s not the Jedi way.” [Chapter 25] as opposed to Palpatines’s “Do it!” and Anakin saying “I shouldn’t have done that, it’s not the Jedi way…” in ROTS.</p>
<p>Palpatine’s “I <em>am</em> the Senate” turning into Obi-Wan’s “I <em>am</em> the High Council.” [Chapter 29].</p>
<p> </p>
<ol>
<li>
<strong> Special guest appearances </strong>by:</li>
</ol>
<p>Aged<strong> Princess Leia </strong>as the Key Keeper with her famous “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope” line [Chapter 21].</p>
<p><strong>Ahsoka Tano</strong> as Jedha’s little vandal Togruta girl [Chapter 22].</p>
<p><strong>Baby Yoda</strong> aka Grogu as Anakin’s “little green friend” [Chapter 29].</p>
<p>Baby <strong>Luke Skywalker</strong> as “the Jedi baby” [Chapter 30].</p>
<p>I think they were pretty obvious, but just in case you guys missed them ;)</p>
<p> </p>
<ol>
<li>A couple of allusions to<strong> Anakin killing the younglings:</strong>
</li>
</ol>
<p>Obi-Wan saying, “He would never kill another Padawan.” [Chapter 11].</p>
<p>Anakin scaring the younglings off by igniting his lightsaber like in that famous ROTS scene. [Chapter 19].</p>
<p> </p>
<ol>
<li>Just some<strong> fun</strong>(?)<strong> facts:</strong>
</li>
</ol>
<p> </p>
<p>Dooku mentioning the “Disaster lineage” [Chapter 24].</p>
<p>Anakin and Yoda quoting <em>The Rule of Two</em> [Chapter 23, Chapter 25].</p>
<p>Barriss Offee telling Anakin they are not very different – an allusion to her betraying the Order in the canon later. [Chapter 11].</p>
<p>The Dyad portals in the Force [Chapter 22, Chapter 24, Chapter 30].</p>
<p>Master “Do or do not” Yoda saying they should TRY [Chapter 25].</p>
<p>Mentions of Darth Maul’s death by Obi-Wan’s hand [Chapter 22, Chapter 24].</p>
<p>Anakin’s Force mind landscape looking like Obi-Wan’s [Chapter 4, Chapter 14, Chapter 26].</p>
<p>The number of victims of the attack on the Jedi Temple being 212. Like Obi-Wan’s 212<sup>th</sup> Fleet [Chapter 27].</p>
<p>Anakin killing Senator Amidala and Count Dooku in the same way he did in the movies [Chapter 23, Chapter 25].</p>
<p>Senator Bail Organa’s death in “an explosion during local military training exercises” as an allusion to the Death Star destroying Alderaan [Chapter 23].</p>
<p>Mention of Lothar Jedi Temple from <em>Star Wars Rebels</em> [Chapter 30].</p>
<p>Mention of Hoth from <em>The Empire Strikes Back</em> [Chapter 26], Stewjon (Obi-Wan’s homeworld), Naboo and Utapau [Chapter 29].</p>
<p>Mention of Krayt dragons on Tatooine from <em>The Mandalorian</em> [Chapter 30].</p>
<p>Mention of eating worlds [Chapter 31]. For more info google Darth Nihilus.</p>
<p> </p>
<ol>
<li>Some<strong> reinterpretations:</strong>
</li>
</ol>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>The Padawan braid significance [Chapter 18].</p>
<p>The point of Sith eyes [Chapter 18].</p>
<p>Anakin’s scar [Chapter 18].</p>
<p>The Mandalorian war chant [Chapter 30].</p>
<p>The Reversed Jedi Temple March moment [Chapter 27].</p>
<p>The light version of Order 66 [Chapter 27].</p>
<p>The Star Destroyer looming over Jedha [Chapter 31].</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s Infinite Sadness [Chapter 32] <em>“And you, Master. What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?”<br/>“Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.” </em>[James Luceno, Labyrinth of Evil].</p>
<p> </p>
<ol>
<li>Allusions to<strong> the fight on Mustafar:</strong>
</li>
</ol>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s over, Anakin. I have the high ground.”  [Chapter 13].</p>
<p>“Don’t try it.” [Chapter 13].</p>
<p>“I hate you!” [Chapter 32] and the same line changed to “I hate it!” [Chapter 13].</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“His stance is defensive more often than not, and even when he is forced to attack, he does it half-heartedly and, for the lack of a better word, gently.”</em> [Chapter 13] was heavily influenced by <strong>Nick Gillard’s talk</strong> about how he wrote the Mustafar fight:</p>
<p>
  <em>“My take on the whole duel was that Obi-Wan is the central character in that duel. He wouldn’t try and kill Anakin. The way I saw that fight was like having a fight with your girlfriend. That she’s just lost it and that she’s coming at you with everything she’s got. […] So you try to defend her as long as you can until she breaks down. Then you can give her a cuddle.“</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are like a brother to me, Anakin.” [Chapter 16].</p>
<p>“I have failed you, Anakin.” [Chapter 19].</p>
<p>“It was said that you would destroy the Sith – not join them!” [Chapter 19].</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The iconic “reaching hands” moment:</p>
<p>“The Jedi freezes in his tracks, his own hand reaching out to Anakin in a silent offer of help. Their fingertips almost touch, almost – but not quite, not really – freezing in the air less than an inch away.” [Chapter 22].</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…his craving just spills all around him in the Force like burning hot lava. It engulfs him completely, setting him on fire and making him scream for his Master.</p>
<p>Help me!</p>
<p>But Obi-Wan turns around and walks away every time, leaving him burning.” [Chapter 22] as in the cut out line <em>“Help me, Master!”</em> (Mentioned in <em>The Making of Star Wars Revenge of the Sith</em> book)</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8UlaThHKfM">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8UlaThHKfM</a>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…blue streaks illuminating their faces, as though their blades were clashing against each other, dancing to their own sizzling music. </p>
<p>Why are they trapped in this constant battle with each other?” [Chapter 31].</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mustafar has been destroyed.” [Chapter 33] – Obi-Wan ordering Anakin to blow up Mustafar to prevent their duel from ever happening in this universe.</p>
  </div></div>
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